


Undercover

by aaahha



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, backdated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-23
Updated: 2012-04-23
Packaged: 2018-12-31 14:56:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12134913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aaahha/pseuds/aaahha
Summary: Melwood City Police Officer Martin Kelly agrees to an undercover assignment infiltrating a criminal group selling lethal fentanyl-laced heroin. This is where he meets Daniel Agger.





	Undercover

**Author's Note:**

> This is old. It was posted on LJ in 2012. I was going to read it over and fix it, but then decided not to. If I had I might've messed with some of the good stuff as well as the bad.

The air was thick with the stench of old garbage. Martin coughed and exhaled as he walked through the doorway of the abandoned building. He took two steps inside, the offending odor getting stronger with each stride. 

He turned toward Terry and gestured to the dingy, ripped mattress a few feet away on the grime covered floor. “Squatters. Definitely.” 

Terry nodded, a grimace setting on his features. “Yeah. No sign of anybody now. Where’s our dead body?” 

Martin surveyed his surroundings and walked further inside. On the other side of the mattress he spotted the dead man. The man’s eyes were closed and his skin had a pale grayish tint. His arms were covered in track marks and small puncture wounds.

He sat back on his haunches and checked the man’s pulse. It was standard procedure, even if he was sure the man was dead just by looking at him. 

Terry caught up with him. “Junkie,” he said, nodding his head a little.

“OD would be my guess too,” Martin said. “Think this could be fentanyl-related? We’d better get one of the Narc Detectives to check this out.” He shifted his eyes toward the deceased again and let out a slow breath. The poor man. This was no way to die. It was no way to live either. Must’ve been tough.

Terry sighed, adjusting the utility belt around his waist, his belly protruding over the top of it. “It’s a routine OD, Martin. Case closed. Get the ME instead.”

Martin shook his head. “I think we ought to let Narcotics investigate this. There have been twelve fentanyl-laced heroin deaths in the past month alone. It’s not our department.”

“Exactly,” Terry said. “So we call it a routine OD, ship the stiff to the morgue and they’ll get Narc involved if they need to.”

Martin bit the inside of his cheek. It was no use arguing with Terry. He had fourteen years on the job and when they disagreed, it was inevitable Martin would have to concede. The man just wouldn’t listen to reason. That had to be the reason he was still an officer and hadn’t yet made Detective. “I’ll radio for the ME.”

He nearly tripped over a rat scuttling across the floor. Who could live in these conditions, even if it was illegally?

 

//

 

“Thought you’d gone home already?” Terry said as he passed by where Martin sat.

Martin didn’t look up from the report he was filling out. “Finishing the report on John Doe.”

Terry scoffed. “The junkie? That’s a ten minute job, tops.”

Martin didn’t tell him he’d already spent half an hour on it. It didn’t matter to him if it was John Doe or the president, he treated the report the same. Sometimes, it was hard to just keep to the basic facts and not inject his opinion on the matter. Like the fact that no one seemed to care that a man had died today. He was a drug addict and he was a squatter, but he was a human being too. Someone who’d had a rough life perhaps. 

When Martin looked up, Terry was smiling at him. “Marcie’s out of town this weekend. Some of the guys are coming over tonight for a couple of beers, you in?”

Martin shook his head. “Nah, I’m back on at midnight.”

Terry lowered his chin toward his chest to stare at him. “Again? Kid, you gotta live a little.”

Martin shrugged. “Need the money.” Martin turned his attention back to the report he had to finish. 

“See in the morning, then.”

 

//

 

Not fifteen minutes later, Captain Patterson called Martin into his office. He sat down in one of the two chairs facing the Captain’s desk.

“You grew up in East Melwood, am I correct?” Patterson said. 

“Yes, sir.”

Captain Patterson leaned back in his chair. “Familiar with the neighborhood then? Not just when it comes to your patrols?”

“Suppose so.”

“Are you attached to it?”

Martin furrowed his brow. Where was this going? “I’ve got some good memories there, but I’m not nostalgic for it. I mean the amount of crime there in the past few years have been raising the city’s average by 25%.”

Captain Patterson grinned. “What’s an ambitious, young guy like you doing riding patrol?”

“We’ve all got to start somewhere.”

Patterson’s grin widened. “I like your attitude. Excellent outlook on life.” 

“Thanks. If I may ask, why are we discussing this?”

Patterson sat up straighter, and folded his hands on the bulky, wooden desk in front of him. “I see you’ve been pulling a lot of double shifts lately. Any particular reason why?” he said. “Besides your love of the job, of course.”

Martin ran a hand through his short hair and chuckled. “Mortgage payments mostly. The economy sucks.”

The Captain nodded. “You know, Boston PD took a lot of flak for letting their officers work as much overtime as they wanted,” he said. “Officers were pulling in yearly salaries that exceeded the amount the Chief of Police made.”

That didn’t sound promising. “Sir?”

“The city monitors these things, and they’ve found that once officers have been on duty for more than 12 hours consecutively, their efficiency and alertness is dramatically lower than of those who work the standard 8 hour shifts.”

“Sir, am I to understand that double shifts are no longer allowed?”

Patterson’s easy smile was gone. “I know that puts some of you in an uncomfortable position, but once these new regulations pass – sometime in the next two weeks – the maximum limit of work every 24 hours will be 10 hours consecutively, excluding shift changes and special operation teams,” he said. “So consider this a heads-up.”

Martin sighed. What was he going to do then? The only reason he and his grandmother had been able to make it comfortably these past three months was because he’d worked his ass off every day, pulling double shifts as often as he could without his mind or body protesting too loudly. 

“However,” the Captain said, his tone of voice a tad lighter. “I have an offer for you.”

Martin sat up straighter. “What kind of offer?”

“The Narcotics division has some leads on this fentanyl-laced drug case. At this point, they’re looking to place someone within the group and build a case from within.” 

“And you want me on the team?”

The corner of the Captain’s mouth twitched. “No. I want you undercover.”

Martin’s eyes opened wide and his mouth went slack. 

“It’s up to you, though,” he said as he unclasped his hands and rested back in his chair. “This could put you on the fast track. After this, I wouldn’t be surprised if you made Detective in 18 months.”

Higher pay would help out with the money situation. Dealing with more serious and specialized cases would give him the chance to help clean up the streets. Martin had to admit it sounded good. Was it worth it? 

 

Martin had a week to learn his ‘script’, while the rest of the team made all the arrangements. 

His handler, Sergeant Alexis Vasquez, had called him in for one last meeting, going over the last of the details. It would be last time he saw the 17th District Police Station for months. 

Vasquez stood at the conference room’s whiteboard. “Our latest victim: Amanda Miller, 19. Her parents found her this morning. OD. Fentanyl-laced heroin. That brings our total number of deaths to thirty-seven, sixteen in this month alone,” she said. “That’s just in the 17th. The 4th and the 3rd have been reporting similar numbers. 5th and 7th are both at 14 total.”

Vasquez walked over to where Martin sat and dumped four files in front of him. She paused to take in his appearance. She’d practically dressed him herself. Raggedy old jeans, faded T-shirt, dirty sneakers and a leather jacket. As far as he was concerned he looked like himself, but to her it was as if some great illusion had been accomplished. 

“This is our main man,” she said, grabbing one of the files and opening it. The mug shot showed a bald, stocky guy. “Desmond Garrity, 48, ex East Melwood mob, until they sold him down the river. Did ten years up in Rockville for their crimes. He’s determined to take the East for himself, and he knows just how to do it.”

“His number one heavy hitter.” She snatched the next file. “Daniel Agger, 30. Now don’t let his appearance fool you. Agger’s no stranger to the Big House. He’s been in and out of prison since he was 15. His most recent stint: three years up in Rockville for aggravated assault when he nearly beat a man to death with a pipe.”

Next there was Kellan Garrity: Desmond’s son. The fourth man, Angelo Morretti, was something of a mystery. The only thing on his record was a five year old overnighter for possession. 

 

//

 

“Agger’s your way in,” Vasquez said as they were wrapping the meeting up. “Garrity’s got many street level dealers. Agger’s not one of them. He’s a more direct link. He deals, sure. Only big sales though, orders the little guys can’t carry out.” 

One of the two surveillance operatives, Michael stretched his arms and yawned. “Think of him as middle management. Garrity tells him he wants East Melwood flooded with this drug; Agger sets all the little dealers out on that task and handles the big sales himself.”

Vasquez’s eyes were fierce when they met Martin’s. “Now what you’re gonna do is you’re gonna strike up a business deal with him. He sells. You buy.”

Martin nodded. “He sells. I buy.”

“Now you’re not a junkie. You’re selling. Soon as they see that they’re going to be looking for a bigger cut.” She reached into her pocket and tossed him keys.

Martin caught it. “What’s this?”

“Your new place,” she said, before slamming and ID on the table. “And your new identity, Mr. Campbell.”

 

//

 

The casserole was on low heat, while Martin chopped up some carrots. 

“Martin, did you get my heart pills?” A soft, wrinkly hand caressed the back of his neck. 

“Yeah, they’re in the cupboard above the fridge.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his grandmother smile. “Thank you, love,” she said, as she reached for the bottle of pills prescribed to her.

“I talked to Ben next door. He’s going to check in on you from time to time while I’m away. Take you to the pharmacy and the grocery store or wherever you need to go.”

She eased herself down into a seat at the kitchen table. “I wish you hadn’t agreed to do this.”

“Even if we didn’t need the money, this way I can make Detective in eighteen months, instead of at least three years I’d be looking at otherwise.”

“And making Detective is the goal here? You say the money isn’t the reason, but isn’t that the reason you want to make Detective? Higher pay? I don’t want to be the reason you do this, Martin.”

Martin dumped the knife in the sink. He turned around and leaned against the kitchen counter. “I want to do this.” He wanted to prove himself, for real. Not on little problems on patrol but on something big, something crucial to the Police Department. “Without the pay, we’ll be living on the streets soon enough.”

She laughed – a giggly little sound Martin had grown accustomed to over the years. “That’s a little dramatic.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “We protect the ones we love. Aren’t you the one who taught me that?”

Her lips twitched both up and down at the same time – a sad little smile gracing her pale face. “You’re a good man, Martin.”

He pursed his lips and blinked. “Even if I’m gonna be gone for a while?”

“Especially then.”

 

//

 

The first taste of discomfort set in as Martin rounded the street corner. He couldn’t see his team, couldn’t even sense them but he knew they were watching. He had a separate cell phone for the purposes of keeping in contact with his control officer, but once he was in, contact would become increasingly difficult without raising suspicion and he’d be on his own. The only thing was, he already felt like he was on his own now.

The snow crunched under his feet as Martin passed the corner bar, carefully keeping his pace the same. Agger’s car was parked further down the street. Martin knew it was his from just glancing at it. It was a beaten down 15 year old mess, the paint job spotty and absent in some places. The passenger-side door was a completely different color; the light gray contrasting with the black that covered the rest of the car. 

He kept the car in his sights as he neared it. He’d almost reached it when a hand came out of the shadows and dragged him into the alley behind it. 

“Hey, man, what the fuck?” Martin let out as he turned around to face whoever had grabbed him. 

He didn’t look much like his mug shot. He looked younger than he actually was; twenty-five or twenty-six. Martin’s age, not thirty like it said on his record. Maybe it was the freckles, lending him a more youthful appearance. 

Agger snorted and lit a cigarette. “You said you were looking to cop.” He took a drag of his cigarette and shoved the lighter into his pocket. He put his arms out, a move that looked remarkably sarcastic. “Here I am. Make it fucking quick. I’m freezing my nuts off.”

The musty smell of cigarette-smoke flooded Martin and it took him a moment to find his voice, certain that it’d be strong and steady. “A brick like we talked about.” His heart wanted out of his chest, beating harder and harder under Agger’s gaze. It had been much easier on the phone. 

Agger stepped closer and blew smoke into Martin’s face. “That’s some habit you got there.” His eyes travelled up and down Martin’s frame and he raised an eyebrow. 

Martin mustered up the slyest smile he could. “Think I’m using that stuff? Never touch it. I’m just looking to make some money.”

Daniel took a step back, but kept his gaze firmly on Martin. “Why buy from me? There are plenty of hookups around town – easy connections.” His brow creased as his eyes narrowed. “Cheaper connections.”

Martin kept the tension he could feel building within him from seeping into his shoulders. He leaned closer, half smiling. “Friend of a friend recommended you. Said you had some high grade stuff.” He lowered his voice to just above a whisper. “High Fly.” The street name for fentanyl-laced heroin. 

Agger smirked. 

Martin could feel the sweat building on his back. Jesus Christ, why did he agree to do this?

Agger took a long drag of his cigarette, all the while watching Martin. “700; tens and twenties only.”

Martin nodded.

Daniel sized him up one last time. “Tomorrow. 8 pm. _Don’t_ be late.” He didn’t even look at him as he strode back to his car. 

 

//

 

He made the call at 1 am. Vasquez picked up the phone on the first ring. 

“700. Tens and twenties only.”

“When?” Vasquez said.

Martin let out a breath. He wasn’t even in yet and it was already stressful. “8 pm tomorrow.” In twenty-four hours, he’d be committing a federal offence. 

“Good. I’ll get you the money.”

 

//

 

At 8 o’clock the next evening, Martin made his way downstairs of the apartment building he was currently living in. Agger was in his car. 

He rolled down the window as Martin neared, a cigarette dangling from his mouth. “Get in.” 

It was almost stereotypical doing a drug deal in a place like this. The walls of the buildings were dirty and beaten, most of them covered with graffiti. They were still in Martin’s police district but on the far edge, where the neighborhood of East Melwood met the adjacent one of Anfield. 

Martin stared out at the basketball court in front of him, with its rusty, crooked hoops, and no netting. It felt like another world entirely. He’d gone on plenty of calls here, but he’d never felt so submerged in this area. Like there really was no way out.

Agger tossed the cigarette out the window. When he turned, his eyes were like steel impaling Martin. “You got the money?”

Martin eyed him back. “700 in tens and twenties,” he said, clutching a wad of bills Vasquez had given him that afternoon. “Where's the stuff?”

Agger didn't move for a second - his eyes still fixed on Martin. “Count it where I can see it.”

Martin slid forward in the seat and proceeded to count the money on the dashboard.

Agger gave him one curt nod when he finished and held his jacket open. The drugs were there, but Martin's eyes caught on the handgun tucked into the waistband of Agger's jeans. Sig Sauer P226. 

Martin nodded back, concentrating on the feel of his Glock 17 pressed into his back, concealed beneath his jacket. A small reassurance, but it worked to calm his jangled nerves.

Daniel held out his hand for the money. The exchange was wordless. 

Martin sat for a moment, looking out the window, listening to the sound of police sirens whining in the distance. 

Agger glared. “What the fuck are you waiting for?”

Martin made a show of rolling his eyes, before he stepped out of the car. 

 

//

 

They made two more similar deals in the next two weeks. Vasquez was getting impatient. 

“Make it happen, Kelly. We're not exactly on a timeline here, but you're going deep and the sooner you get in the better.”

Martin dug the tips of his fingers into his thigh, his eyes unfocused. He couldn't just ask Agger for a job. 

“Where's your in?”

Martin exhaled. “Haven't found it yet. I can't get a read on him,” he said. “It's always 'things are done his way or they aren't done at all'.”

“Find it,” Vasquez said firmly. “I don't care what you do, but you need in with Garrity's group. We're building a case for trafficking, not dealing.”

Why the FBI wasn't handling it, Martin didn't know. He'd been told the feds were focusing on the other end. The fentanyl laced with the heroin wasn't pharmacy fentanyl, after all, but something cheaper, more dangerous - cooked up in a chem lab somewhere. “I'll try and work an angle.”

“The sooner the better,” Vasquez reiterated. 

As it turned out, he didn't have to. 

They met in a bar this time. As soon as Martin walked in, he spotted Desmond Garrity at a table near the back. He was stockier than his picture showed, but he recognized the bald head and the round face as his. Agger stood off to the side. Garrity’s son, Kellan, stood next to him. 

Agger jerked his head toward the bathroom. 

Martin was met with the vague smell of piss and vomit as he walked inside. As he was cataloguing the sinks, the urinals and stalls, and the tiny window near the ceiling, the door flung open. He turned around, only to be cornered between the wall and nearest sink by Agger. 

Agger's eyes bore into his, his mouth drawn together and his chest out. “You a cop?” 

Martin's heart was beating in his ears. He scoffed and made an attempted to get past him. 

Agger grabbed his shoulders and shoved him back so hard Martin's shoulder blades collided with the wall with an audible thump. A dull throbbing sunk into his muscles. Martin's stomach took a dive into his toes. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He struggled to keep his face expressionless, his concealed Glock pressing uncomfortably into his back.

Agger grabbed his wrist and twisted his hand behind his back, stepping closer and closer until they were breathing the same air. 

Martin thought about fighting back, jumped into the process of weighing the pros against the cons. He had to show him he could take it.

Agger yanked Martin's hand higher. Pain shot through him.

“Are you a fucking cop?”

“No,” Martin ground out, pulling on every aggressive thought he had and painting it on his face, as he moved it even closer to Agger’s. They were practically kissing. He hung on hope that Agger was one of the people that actually believed the ridiculous myth that if he was a cop he had to acknowledge it.

Agger twisted his hand higher behind his back. 

Another shot of pain coursed through him. He growled and knocked his forehead against Agger's.

Agger winced, but didn't let go. He twisted his arm higher and Martin whimpered. 

“Martin Campbell, is that your real name?” 

Martin wheezed, the pain in his arm stabbing and throbbing intermittently. “Yes,” he breathed and cringed as Agger twisted harder. “Fucking yes.”

Agger's free hand dug into Martin's pocket, dangerously close to Martin's cock. 

He breathed hard as Agger fished his wallet out of his jeans.

He pressed his body full force into Martin's and flipped the wallet open. His eyes were on Martin's fake ID. 

Agger's breath ghosted over Martin's neck. He felt hot all over. His cock twitched and Martin screwed his eyes shut. Fucking hell, he was getting aroused. What the hell was wrong with him?

Agger closed the wallet, but didn't move an inch. He released his hand but grabbed a handful of his hair instead and jerked his head back. 

Martin moaned, throaty and hot - but not from pain. It was a moan of pure arousal. He was hard. He bit his bottom lip and prayed Agger didn't feel it. There was no way he didn't though. Every inch of their bodies was pressed together. 

Agger chuckled. “Kinky motherfucker.” He yanked on his hair again.

Martin couldn't stop the moan from escaping. 

Agger leaned forward, his breath now blowing over Martin's ear. “You're getting off on this.”

Martin squirmed and tried to get past him. Agger let go of his hair long enough to shove him back against the wall before he grabbed a handful of it again. 

He laughed, tightening the grip on Martin’s hair, and smirked at the choked off sound Martin didn’t want to make. He squeezed his free hand between them and stroked it over Martin's hard cock through his jeans. 

Martin’s breath was unraveling. This was so bad. 

Agger stepped back. “Martin Campbell, two years for possession with intent to sell? One year for simple assault? You that Martin Campbell?”

Martin swallowed and his face grew hot. “Yeah.” His breath was shallow and loud as he sighed quietly in relief. 

Agger smiled. “Stick around, Martin. We might just have some use for you.”

 

When Martin got home, he tossed himself face down on his bed and closed his eyes. At least that was comfortable even if the rest of the place was an utter shithole. It was firm and narrow and reminded him of the bed he’d had at his nan’s when he was about 12 or 13. It was surprising how comforting the memory was.

All he wanted to do was sleep, but his mind wouldn’t let him rest long enough to reach that peaceful slumber. He kept thinking about the confrontation with Agger. More specifically his body’s reaction to it. The heightened tension that came with this operation was messing with his senses. Pain was not arousing. Except apparently it was.

He rubbed his hands over his eyes and let out a frustrated groan. 

 

//

 

Roused from a strange dream when one of his cell phones rang, Martin reached out blindly and flicked it open. His face was pressed into his pillow and he had yet to open his eyes. 

“’Lo?” He mumbled, the sound muffled by the pillow. 

The sound that greeted him was a low chuckle. “Aren’t you boring, sleeping like an old man,” Agger said. 

Martin’s eyes opened as he rolled over onto his back. “What do you want?”

“Meet me downstairs in half an hour. We have work to do.” Then he hung up.

Martin let out a deep breath and flicked the phone closed. The digits on the front read 2.15 am. He sighed and stretched. Less than three hours of sleep. He had a feeling it would be all the sleep he’d get that night. 

 

//

 

It was snowing. A thin layer of white lay over everything and almost made the neighborhood look alright. Martin stuck his exposed hands into the pockets of his jeans, his breath coming out as fog every time he exhaled as he waited on the steps outside the building. The crisp night air felt good in his lungs; probably as clean as it ever would be around these parts. 

He heard the car before he saw it. It skidded for a good few feet – the wheels not turning – before it came to a stop. 

Agger, unsurprisingly, had a cigarette between his lips.

“Where are we going?” Martin asked and he scrambled in and put on his seat belt before Agger tore off down the street.

Agger took the cigarette between two of his fingers and leveled Martin with a firm look that told him he wasn’t going to answer further. 

 

//

 

Agger pulled up in front of an apartment building four blocks away. He got out of the car in a relaxed manner, finished what little was left of his cigarette and then tossed it. 

Martin got out just after him. “It’s almost 3 in the morning, what are we doing here?”

“Business.” He raised an eyebrow and smirked. 

Martin hated that fucking smirk. “And you had to drag me out of bed to play witness?”

Agger’s smirk widened if anything. He stood leaning on his piece of shit car. “Stay here.”

He jogged up the steps toward the building and a moment later disappeared inside. 

Martin sat on the hood of the car. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was some sort of test. Was he supposed to follow? Or was he better off showing that he could take instruction? 

Martin jumped off the car, as his nerves wound themselves tighter. Fuck. He paced through the snow, once again left with only his instincts to guide him. He had to follow. 

He pushed the door open. He could hear voices, but he couldn’t be sure where they were coming from, or what they were saying. All he could infer from the tone was that it wasn’t a pleasant conversation. 

A loud thud. Someone getting hit perhaps? Martin walked down the hall. The voices were closer now. 

That same thudding sound, harder and closer this time. Martin rounded the corner and walked straight into Agger. His hands were covered in blood and he had his weapon out.

Martin’s stomach clenched violently. “What happened?” He didn’t sound half as freaked as he felt. He hadn’t heard any gunshots, but Agger was a violent son of a bitch. Someone was bleeding and it wasn’t him. 

Agger wiped his hands on his jeans and tucked his gun back into the waistband. “None of your fucking business.” 

He’d brought him here because he wanted something. Did he want him to know who was in charge of things out here or did he just want to fuck with his head? One thing was for sure. Agger didn’t trust him. Not one bit.

Martin had to change that. Fast. 

 

//

 

Agger took him on a few more jobs that week, but he always made sure to keep him off to the side and out of the loop, further confirming Martin’s suspicion that he didn’t trust him. But he had to. The whole operation depended on it.

He hadn’t heard from him in a couple of days. His contact with Vasquez was sporadic at best, but she’d made it pretty damn clear that Martin was to be like Agger’s second skin. The thought almost made him shudder. He pushed it out of his head and grasped at something. He couldn’t just sit on his ass and count on Agger to make the moves. 

He grabbed his phone off the table and dialed the number. 

“Hello?” Agger’s voice was deep and pleasant, and Martin had to work to shake the thought out of his head. 

“Hey.” If he’d thought just half a minute ahead, he’d have already thought of what to say and this awkward silence wouldn’t be hanging over them. 

“Did you want something?” Agger said, his voice edgy.

“Maybe.” He bit his lip and stifled a sigh. Way to be vague.

“I’m dropping something off at the bar. Meet me there in an hour?”

“I’ll be there.”

 

//

 

Agger bought him a drink and slid it in front of him. 

The rules were clear: two drinks maximum and only to keep your cover. It was hard to judge, sitting there, if he’d blow his cover if he didn’t drink, but a quick glance at Agger’s hard eyes convinced him. He was testing him again. 

Martin took a swig and closed his eyes as the bourbon burned his throat. “Maybe we can work out some kind of deal.”

Agger downed the rest of his drink and ordered another for himself and another for Martin. “I’m listening.”

Martin turned his glass in his hand. “Is there something you want? Maybe I can help you get it.” He leaned closer to whisper. “I got connections too, you know.”

Agger chuckled. “You don’t got shit I want.” He took a big swig of his new drink and got off the barstool. He stepped right into Martin’s personal space and just stood there as if to gauge his reaction. 

Martin didn’t move. Instead, he emptied his drink and placed it on the bar table, his movements bringing his face inches from Agger’s. “You sure about that?” 

Agger’s eyes fell to his mouth and then his neck and Martin knew he was in dangerous territory. 

Agger grabbed his chin and held it hard. “What’s in it for you?”

“I want in on whatever you got going on. I’ve got no interest in playing spectator anymore.”

Agger snorted and eased Martin’s face almost to his own. 

Somewhere inside him, he was protesting. This was fucking risky. He kept his face straight and the thoughts down. He was in full control of himself. 

“I call the shots.” Agger thrust his hand between Martin’s legs and grabbed his crotch. Martin felt the blood rush down to meet his hand. He was getting hard. Again. Fuck. 

“You’ve got a nice ass and a mouth I’d like to fuck. You got nothing else I want.”

There was no way to talk him out of it. What would he say? ‘We work together’? As if the drug-pushing trade was a 9 to 5 office gig. Martin’s head was spinning. His blood was simmering with arousal, his head clouded with the effects of the bourbon he’d just drank in under five minutes. He nodded. “Okay.” 

Agger let go of his chin and pressed his other hand down harder and leaned into Martin. “Exactly how rough do you like it?” His breath blew over his ear.

His own breathing was ragged, as if the tension racking his body was obstructing its release somehow. 

Agger pulled back. “Come on then.”

 

//

 

In the alley behind the bar, Agger slammed him against the wall and pushed up against him. He seized Martin’s wrist tightly and shoved his hand against the front of his jeans. 

“Feel that?” He said as his free hand closed around Martin’s throat. He gripped hard but not hard enough to cut off his air. 

Martin nodded. It was freezing outside, the ice under his feet giving him no leverage, but he was flushed and could’ve melted the snow falling from the sky with nothing but his body heat. 

Agger held him against the wall and leaned in to smash his mouth against his. Martin found himself simultaneously wanting him and hating him. The kiss was rough, with too much tongue, but Martin’s stomach back-flipped. He liked it. He shouldn’t. A part of him didn’t. 

He was so turned on he wanted to throw up. It was fucking sick. 

Agger broke the kiss and licked over Martin’s lips. 

Martin breathed through his nose. Loud and jagged. 

“Suck me.”

“Here?”

Agger’s reply was to push against Martin’s hand. Martin curled his fingers. Agger bit his lip. 

He sank to his knees on the arctic ground. As he undid Agger’s jeans, he felt his stomach lurch. His chest wound itself into a tight knot. He had to do this. Best to just get it over with. 

He licked his lips for moisture against the cold wind and freed Agger’s cock. Before his mind could reject again he put the tip in his mouth. 

Agger clutched his head, his fingers twisting in his hair and he pushed him down the length of him. 

Martin gagged, hot tears blurring his vision. His own cock twitched, straining against his jeans. Fuck, he liked that too. He pulled back only to get thrust down again. He was going to throw up. He whimpered and sounded choked. 

Agger’s breathing was uneven and Martin’s gag-reflex was winding down. He took him all the way in again, without Agger’s forceful shoving. His cock throbbed painfully – he was so fucked up. As he bobbed his head up and down, twirling his tongue around the tip before sinking down again, Agger’s breathing unraveled further, becoming loud and irregular. 

“Now,” Agger panted.

Martin didn’t stop. He continued to suck and suck and suck until Agger had spilt all of himself into Martin’s mouth.

Agger took hold of Martin by his hair and yanked him onto his feet again. His scalp stung and he moaned. The front of his jeans was damp with pre-come. 

“Did that turn you on?” 

“Yeah.” Christ, he actually moaned. The real stink of it all was he wasn’t even lying. 

Agger’s eyes were glazed over, and for no more than a second, he stood taking in the sight of him. He crushed up against him as he unbuttoned his jeans and buried his face in his neck, sucking and biting down. It hurt, sharp little stabs of pain every time his teeth sank into his flesh, but it was so fucking good. Now he was the one panting. 

Agger lifted his head and brought his hand up. “Lick.”

Martin did. It was almost obscene, their gazes locked as his tongue glided over Agger’s palm. 

Agger’s mouth hovered over Martin’s as he retracted his hand. “That’s a good boy,” he said, his voice low and raspy as he took Martin’s cock in his hand. 

Martin bit his swollen lip and forced his eyes shut. Goddamn it, what the fuck was wrong with him? He moaned as Agger started jerking him off. 

He was royally fucked. What he was doing was morally ambiguous at best, but there were no rules forbidding it. His job wasn’t on the line, but that didn’t change that this was fucked up no matter how he might look at it. His job didn’t even factor into it. Getting off on pain was one thing. Fucking a violent criminal was another altogether. 

His mind blanked and all he could think about was how good Agger’s hand felt on him. His breath was coming in short gasps and he could feel his orgasm building up, Agger stroking him closer and closer to it. 

Agger’s mouth claimed his again. He kissed him hard and took his bottom lip between his teeth, and Martin was coming, his breathing hard and his gut twisted. 

Agger didn’t really give him time to collect himself. He let go and stepped back, his face marked with an ugly frown. 

“Tomorrow night.” He strode toward the door.

Martin scrambled to place himself back in his jeans, and followed Agger. “What happens tomorrow?”

“You’ll find out tomorrow.”

 

//

 

Martin stopped twice on his walk home, sure he was going to throw up, but nothing happened. He didn’t even come up empty. The taste of Agger was still on his tongue. He squeezed his eyes shut and fished his phone out of his pocket. 

He made his way to his door and dialed Vasquez’s number. 

“Kelly?” It wasn’t her. 

“Where’s Vasquez?” 

Michael laughed. “Why? You want to tell her what you just did? Giving head to get ahead?”

Another bout of nausea hit him. “Fuck you. I didn’t exactly enjoy that.” Only he had, hadn’t he?

“Really? Looked like you did.”

Martin jammed his key in the door and opened it. “Just put Vasquez on the phone, you fucking prick.”

“I tell you, it’s a good thing you’re queer, because at least it wasn’t a straight guy blowing him to get in with his group, you know?”

He slammed the door. “Think it fucking matters? Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I want to blow any guy I see. If it was the most fucking ugly chick you’d ever seen and you had to go down on her to get in with her group, would you want to? For sexual reasons, not professional ones?”

“I—Wh-”

“Put Vasquez on.”

There was a rustling sound, and Martin jogged up the raw concrete steps to his apartment on the fourth floor. He’d just reached his door when she came on.

“Kelly?” The sound of her voice sent a wave of calm through him. She was tough as nails and hard on him, but he trusted her with his life. The same could not be said for Michael.

“Something’s going down tomorrow night. He won’t tell me what… And could you tell your surveillance guys to tone it down a little? I feel like an amateur porn star.”

“Your refusal to wear a wire is your prerogative but that means we’ve got to watch you twice as closely. Because should your cover be compromised you’ve got about a minute before you’re dead.”

He hung up as he opened the door to his apartment.

 

After a hot shower and good long moment to get his head together, Martin felt better. It was only sex. Who cared if he used it to get in? And Agger... Agger was a criminal, but nothing he’d done that night was against Martin’s will. Martin had used himself and in a way he was using Agger too. It was less the other way around. Though Agger was undoubtedly exploiting his position, at least he was upfront about it.

 

//

 

Martin didn’t answer the phone in his hand until the third ring. 

“Ten minutes,” Agger said and hung up. 

Martin took his other cell phone, dialed Vasquez and told her the same thing. 

 

//

 

It had finally stopped snowing, although it was still cold outside. It was mid-March, almost time for spring. Before he’d know it, it’d be his 25th birthday. Would he be able to see his grandmother then? The thought was a little depressing. He knew he would still be stuck here, building a case bit by tiny bit. He hadn’t even scratched the surface. He’d never even been around Garrity for more than the time it took to glance at him. 

Agger pulled up to the curb. Martin took his time getting in the car. He didn’t want to seem too eager. It would be suspect if someone was excited about a job they were on. Not that he was excited, really. More just keen to get it over with – one small step at a time. He had no idea what he was in for.

He was engulfed in cigarette smoke as he got in the car. Same as usual. 

“So,” he said, as he sat back in the passenger seat and stretched his legs out on the rubber mat on the floor of the car. “Where are we going?”

“You ask too many fucking questions,” Agger muttered around his cigarette, tossing him a pointed look.

Martin shrugged, but left it at that.

Agger tapped ash out the window and ignored him. 

 

//

 

A fifteen minute drive found them in an abandoned lumber yard. Agger stopped the car and leaned back in his seat. They were waiting. 

Martin’s heart seemed to thump impossibly loud in the silence. What kind of deal was this? He had a feeling it was bigger than what he’d seen before. That wasn’t saying much. He was an officer; he handled petty thefts, vandalisms, noise complaints, traffic accidents. He rarely had anything to do with drugs. It wasn’t his department. Until now. 

A second car pulled up; a sleek black Chrysler. The driver got out.

Agger got out as well. Martin followed, his heart pumping too much blood each time it beat. He was starting to sweat. 

“Where’s Garrity?” The Chrysler’s driver said. 

Agger’s mouth hardened. He nodded to a car parked across the street behind him. Martin hadn’t noticed the tail, too intent on not looking back in an attempt not to compromise his own tail. His senses needed sharpening or he’d never survive this thing. Fuck. His mind was screaming at him that he was careless. He’d only been undercover for three weeks and he was already lapsing at the most basic of security. 

The driver held up a big wad of bills, neatly organized in a clip.

Agger popped the trunk. Ten bricks of fentanyl-laced heroin lined the inside. Martin couldn’t quite figure the deal out. How pure was the High Fly Agger sold? From what Vasquez had told him, it was pretty damn pure, which meant a sale like this one could be beneficial to the other party, if they cut the drugs and then sold them off for a similar price, but in possession of twice as much. It had to be something like that, but that begged the question of why had Agger and Garrity not cut theirs.

Getting the customer completely hooked first, before selling them a more diluted product? That was Martin’s best guess. 

“Sample?” The driver said.

Agger whipped out a pocket knife and stuck the heroin with it. 

The man took it and put his tongue to the white line on it. He smacked his mouth and nodded.

Agger tossed Martin the driver’s gym bag. Martin couldn’t deny the tense discomfort seeping in under his skin as he bagged the heroin. He felt less and less like a cop every day. How many laws had he broken in the last two days alone? At least he still thought like a cop. 

The bag filled, he threw it back to Agger, who took the money and handed the bag over. 

Garrity’s car drove off and Agger grasped the back of Martin’s neck to push him toward his car. The touch sent a spark through Martin. Goddamn it. What kind of fucking reaction was that?

“The heroin, it’s not uncut, is it?”

Agger studied Martin for a while. He broke eye-contact to start the car. “No. Not uncut. It’s about ninety percent pure.”

Jesus Christ. No wonder it was killing people left and right, with the added cooked up fentanyl laced in, using this drug would kill you faster than ingesting a bottle of rat poison.

 

//

 

Martin glanced out the window outside Garrity’s bar, the sound of the motor running idle the only thing that could be heard. “What are we doing here?”

Agger’s forehead creased as he frowned, his mouth drawing together. “We’re dropping off the cash.”

“How much do we get?” 

Agger laughed darkly. “Nothing. I get ten percent off the next shipment. No idea what you’ll get, aside from my cock up your ass.”

Martin continued to look out the window. “Hardly a fair trade if you ask me.”

Agger grinned. “How would you know? I haven’t fucked you yet.”

Martin made a non-committal sound.

Agger snorted. “I seem to remember someone nearly creaming their pants blowing me.”

Martin shrugged and turned his attention back out the window. 

Apparently, Agger didn’t like being shrugged off so casually. He leaned right into Martin’s personal space and pressed his hand between Martin’s legs. 

Martin could feel the familiar stirring in his gut, send flashes of aroused shooting throughout him. “Drug deals don’t really turn me on,” he said despite it. 

Agger licked his lips. “Maybe not. But I know something that does.” He grasped a handful of his hair and pulled his head back by it. The stinging sensation was mild but it sent shivers down Martin’s spine. Agger, one hand still buried in Martin’s hair, pushed him forward and crashed their lips together. Agger’s teeth grazed his bottom lip and Martin opened his mouth to his tongue. 

He tasted of oranges and cigarettes and Martin couldn’t help the way his stomach swirled and twisted as the stirring in his gut spread to his groin. He’d already resigned himself to it, but his mind wouldn’t stop. Telling him he didn’t want this, even as he began to get hard against Agger’s hand. 

He kissed him back harder, and put one hand on the back of his head. Agger trailed his fingers over the growing bulge in Martin’s jeans and Martin pulled back. 

He paused to breathe. “Later, okay? Just drop off the money and then we can continue this.” If access to Agger’s information and Garrity’s group hinged upon Martin sleeping with him, so be it. 

Martin stared out the window as they waited for Garrity to arrive. Neither of them said anything, but the atmosphere was stifling. Agger stole glances at Martin; eyes caressing the uncomfortable bulge in his jeans or lingering on his neck and kissed lips. He wanted him. Martin wasn’t sure why. It was barely a week ago that he’d attacked him in the bar bathroom, trying to break him, get him to admit to his false background. 

Martin still got the feeling he didn’t trust him. Sleeping with him would only go so far to prove he could be trusted. He’d need to do it more than once. Martin glimpsed back at him. He could handle that. For the job. 

When Desmond Garrity finally arrived, Martin felt the tension ease up a bit. He no longer felt like he’d suffocate if he sat there much longer. 

Agger handed the cash over. 

“We’ve got a bit of trouble. Ricky’s been sniffing around our business. He finds out we’ve been dealing on his turf, we’ll have a war on our hands, so keep it on the down low in those parts.”

Agger nodded. “You got it.”

 

//

 

Ricky. Where had he heard that name before? 

Agger parked next to an apartment building a few blocks from Martin’s and got out. Martin dragged his feet, the name still ringing hollow in his head – he knew he’d heard it before. He turned around only to be slammed back against the car.

Agger’s grimace was dark. “What Garrity says to me, he says to _me_ , got it?” 

“Yeah. I got it, Agger.” 

This was confirmation. Agger didn’t like that Garrity had let something so big slip in front of Martin. That could only mean one thing. Agger was the one keeping him at arms’ length from everything; he was the reason he couldn’t get to Garrity.

He frowned and pushed him back. “Don’t do that.” 

“Do what?”

Agger’s face was inches from his, but there was hardly anything sexual about this, despite the proximity. His eyes were narrowed into slits, his corners of his mouth turned downward. “Don’t call me that. Reminds me of prison. You’re not even pronouncing it right.”

Martin scoffed. “We can’t all be Danish.” He bit his tongue but it was already out. 

Agger slammed him back against the car; Martin’s back taking a knock so hard he could barely breathe. “How the fuck do you know it’s Danish?”

Martin grit his teeth. “Think you’re the only one who checks up on people? I wanted to know who I was getting in bed with.” The double meaning almost made him laugh. Fuck, his nerves were shot to hell and he wanted to laugh? He was screwed. As if the slip up wasn’t bad enough, now he was trying to hide a grin, laughter bubbling up inside him, tickling his chest. 

Agger leaned his head back, his forehead crinkled in concentration. It was now or never. Martin grabbed the back of Agger’s head and kissed him. Agger’s shoulders were tense, but as Martin threw himself into it, deepening the kiss – his head chanting negative thoughts left and right – the tension seeped out of him. 

When they surfaced for air, Agger’s hand closed around the back of his neck, fingers pressing in hard.

“None of that ‘Agger’ shit,”

“What the hell else am I supposed to call you?”

Agger let go and took a step back, throwing his arms out as he walked backwards. “‘Daniel’ works just fine.”

“And what happens if I don’t pronounce that correctly either?” Jesus. He just couldn’t stop himself. Always jamming his foot not just in his mouth but down his throat as well. 

But Agger laughed. “Guess I’ll have to punish you good and hard.”

He led Martin upstairs to his apartment – which even though it was miles nicer than Martin’s current one, still didn’t look half as nice as Martin’s real home: his grandmother’s house. 

Agger closed to door and trapped Martin between his body and the door. A thrill ran through Martin and Agger wasn’t even touching him yet. He kissed him long and hard, hands place on either side of his neck, firmly holding him in place. 

He pulled back and whispered, out of breath: “Do you have a safe word or something?”

“No,” Martin said. He barely recognized his own voice, so raspy and breathless. “I’m not submissive and you’re not tying me up.” He took a deep breath as Agger’s hand began to explore him; trailing down his abs, caressing his hips and over his ass. “You can do what you like or what you think I like, but when I say ‘stop’, you stop.”

Agger’s answer was to kiss him again, his lips colliding against Martin’s, tongue pressing for entrance. Martin obliged, his head swimming as he felt himself once again get hard against Agger’s thigh that was pressed between his legs. Agger’s hands were still on his ass, squeezing just a little too tightly. Agger angled his leg for better access, the contrast of the barely there friction against the firm hands grabbing his ass shorting out Martin’s wiring and sending sparks all over the place; hands, knees, even his toes. 

He moaned into the kiss. Agger pulled away and hurriedly removed both their jackets, his cold hand sliding under Martin’s shirt. He shivered – despite his body heat boiling – and goose bumps broke out on his skin. 

 

//

 

As they undressed each other between urgent kisses, Martin couldn’t help taking in Agger’s body. The lean, wiry muscles that were stronger than they looked were all covered in tattoos. His arms, his chest, his back; all inked. Some works looked finer than others; no doubt some were done in prison. He was kind of beautiful when Martin thought about it. The dark eyes and fierce stares, the tattoos masking some kind of pain Martin could almost see when he looked at him like this. 

So he just wouldn’t think about it. He couldn’t risk it.

 

//

 

His stomach was in knots, the weight dragging him down inch by steady inch as he moaned and writhed, desperate for more. Agger’s fingers were inside him, moving with unrelenting pace. Too hard, but Martin’s gut was coiling and uncoiling intermittently, wave after wave of strong pleasure rocking him. 

Just a couple of more of Agger’s precisely random strokes over his prostate and Martin would reach his climax, but Agger withdrew his fingers. He barely had time to catch his breath before Agger had rolled on a condom and pushed into him. He gave him no time to recover as he snapped his hips back and thrust in again. Martin felt raw and so close to coming he thought he would right then and there. 

Agger’s hand gripped the back of his sweat-slicked neck, holding him down against the bed. Martin groaned – the friction incredible. Agger’s fingers dug deeper into his skin. 

He squeezed his hand between himself and the bed and started to stroke his own cock. He pushed back against Agger’s thrusts despite the brutal pace. 

He felt used and sore and so over-stimulated he thought he might actually pass out. Agger hit his prostate and Martin’s nearly keeled, feeling heavy, so heavy. Used beyond his capacity. 

Martin’s breath was shallow. Agger’s grunts entered his ear and got tangled inside his chest. 

One more thrust and he was coming with a hoarse gasp, his hand furiously milking all he had. 

Agger’s other hand scratched against his hip as he thrust in deeper, harder, faster. Both his holds on him tightened and another jolt surged through Martin and a few more drops spurted out. 

Agger’s breathing was fast and shallow, and he finally came, his hands burning against Martin’s bruised skin. 

Martin collapsed face down. His eyelids were glued shut and his limbs like lead. The aftershock was slowly rolling through him. Everything was sore, even his mind. 

The bed jostled as Agger lied down next to him. “I don’t care if you stay or go, but just don’t expect anything.”

It took all that remained of his energy to speak. “Besides fucking?” 

“Yeah.”

“Sounds good to me.”

 

Martin awoke to incessant banging on the door. His eyes snapped open and before he’d even actively thought of it, he immediately realized where he was. The room was dark and stank of sex and sleep, but he could see he was alone. 

The banging ceased and Martin heard the lock turn.

“Daniel, you miserable piece of shit,” a woman slurred.

Martin got out of bed – carefully as his ass was still tender – and walked to the bedroom door that was slightly ajar. He could see Daniel's bare back, the tattoos nothing but a big, dark smudge in the limited light.

“What the fuck do you want?” Daniel said. There was something different about his tone. It was openly hostile, but it was veiling something else. Something Martin couldn't put his finger on.

The woman stepped aside where Martin could see her. She staggered but managed to stay on her feet. Her clothes were skimpy, the hooded sweatshirt not zipped all the way up and her hair was badly bleached, the dirty blonde roots darker against the yellow frizziness that was the rest of her hair. “Where's Julian?” Her eyes closed, accenting the dark rings under them, as she stammered the words.

“The fuck should I know? He doesn't live here.”

“Filthy fucking faggot,” she spat, scrunching up her nose. “I want to know where my son is. I don’t want you infecting him.”

Agger's back tensed. “In this family, I’m the one who’s least likely to do anything to him. And I told you I have no fucking idea where he is. _Your_ fault, not mine. Now get the fuck out of my apartment, _mom_.”

Martin took a step back. Well, shit. Agger’s mother. And a train wreck at that, if this was any indication.

He lied back down. The door slammed and Agger came back, teeth clenched and brow furrowed.

“That was your mother?” Martin said softly.

“If you can call that fucked-out alcoholic whore a mother.” He pulled on a sweater.

That was kind of fucked up. Martin supposed he should've expected something unpleasant. Well-adjusted people didn't turn to a life of crime. At least not for no reason, as Agger's case had seemed to be. 

Agger sat down on the edge of the bed to put on some socks.

“Where are you going?”

“To look for my little brother. I have a pretty good idea where he is.”

Martin raised his arm to check his watch. 2.56 am. “It's 3 in the morning.”

“Yup.” He got off the bed.

Martin sat up as he thought of something. “I better come with you.” What faster way to  
gain his trust then to help him and possibly his brother?

Agger's shoulders sagged. “Look, this is personal... You don't have to come.”

“You seem to think he's in trouble. I'll come with you.”

 

//

 

He was half-asleep, head lolling against the car door as Agger drove, but his eyes were open. Agger had really drained him of his energy. He bit back a grin. Fucking hell, the sex had been amazing. Considering it was a first time encounter, it was absolutely mind-blowing. He stole a glance in Agger’s direction.

He shouldn’t be thinking like this. He shouldn’t even like it. Geez, he really was too tired. He had no control over his mind. 

He yawned and tried to sit up. “What does he look like?”

Agger took a break from chewing on his bottom lip, only long enough to speak. “Like me, only younger, shorter and blonder.”

Martin stretched his face in an attempt not to smile. “How much younger?”

“15 years.”

No wonder he was worried. Martin had thought it didn’t fit with his angry, violent personality, but a brother so much younger… He still couldn’t wrap his head around it. This was a man who dealt drugs that had killed about a hundred people, beat people halfway to their deaths with a pipe and could scare you with nothing but a look. But this was also a man who worried about his little brother and got up in the middle of the freezing night to go look for him? 

Martin felt uneasy. He was using a human being. Before now, it had been easy to imagine Agger as someone who didn’t care about anyone but himself. Someone who was in the drug pushing trade for the money. Someone who should rightfully be locked up for good. 

They passed Martin’s apartment building and headed into the neighborhood of Anfield. The further they drove the grimier and greyer everything seemed to be. Martin couldn’t help but wonder if wouldn’t help with policing and keeping things under control if they split both East Melwood and Anfield into two districts each; the nicer parts on opposite ends separate from the working class parts, to keep the class difference from being in-everyone’s-face. It might even help with the crime rate. 

Agger pulled up next to a convenience store. A group of kids were sitting on top of the dumpster next to it. When they saw the car, a couple of them bolted, but a handful advanced. 

The looks on their faces were varying degrees of amused. Martin had a bad feeling about this. 

Agger got out of the car – no sign of apprehension apparent in the way he carried himself. 

Martin unbuckled his seat belt and got out too. 

“I’m looking for Rory,” Agger said. 

The kid in front laughed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The kid took out a pocketknife and just held it for a moment. “You sure you’re looking for Rory?”

Agger smirked. “Yeah.”

The kid snapped the blade up and made as if to grab Agger. Agger maneuvered quickly to the right and grasped the kid’s wrist. He pressed him face down on the hood of the car and twisted his arm behind his back. “I’m not playing around. Now tell me where Rory is.”

The kid winced as Agger twisted his arm. He threw his head back. “Aah. Okay. Okay. He’s out back.”

“With Julian?” He pressed the kid’s head down again. 

“Yeah.”

Agger let him go and made a beeline for the store’s backspace. Martin trailed after him, musing that even as the kid threatened him with a knife, Agger never pulled his gun on him. 

Rory was a 19-year-old pretty boy rich kid who thought it was cool to join a gang. Hell, he could even have started it for all Martin knew. He was just the type. The Melwood Police Department knew about him and his ‘posse’ (though it wasn’t Martin’s district) but so far he’d walked on everything, because his father was one of the city’s most influential people.

He had an arm around a boy that had to be Julian. He had the same nose, the same shape of face and the same eyes as Agger. His hair was dirty blonde like their mother’s and his lips were fuller and pinker than Agger’s. 

“Julian.”

He turned around, feet still planted in the same spot. Rory turned around as well. 

Julian’s smile was small and almost childlike in its honesty. “Dan.”

Rory puffed out his chest. “Well, if it isn’t big bro… What do you want, Agger?”

“We had a deal. I’ll get you your money and you leave Julian alone.”

Rory grinned, revealing his shiny white teeth. “I changed my mind.”

Agger growled. It was low – barely audible – and spelled out the frustration Martin imagined him feeling. “Change it back. Julian, come on.”

Julian took a step forward, but Rory pulled him back. “Hang on. Hang on a minute. We’re not done negotiating.”

Agger stalked closer, steel in his eyes and intention in his limbs. “We _are_ done negotiating. I could kill you right here, and nobody would have to pay you a cent.”

Rory chuckled. “And go back to prison? I’ve got witnesses, Agger.” But he let go of Julian. “Remember, boys. The longer I have to wait for my money, the higher the cost will be.”

Martin trudged back to the car. Rory was nothing but a hoodlum. Why did Agger owe him money? It didn’t make any sense. He didn’t exactly have a steady income, but he’d sooner knock over the convenience store than get involved with the teenage gangbanger behind it. 

And what was keeping him for just killing him like he’d said? There wouldn’t always be witnesses. No matter how influential his father was, there had to be times when he was alone. Maybe Agger wasn’t as violent as Martin thought he was. 

This little brother business was screwing with his head. None of it matter. Not Agger. Not Julian. Certainly not Rory. Desmond Garrity mattered. And okay, so maybe Agger did matter a little bit, but only in the sense that he was a part of what Garrity was up to. That was the only thing that Martin would concern himself with. 

Agger backed up into the street. 

Julian eyed Martin. “Who’s this dude?”

“An associate.” He sighed. “What did Rory want?”

Julian shrugged. “Nothing. Just to hang out or something. He says he’s protecting his investment.”

“What fucking investment? He loaned you a shitload of cash, none of which was spent wisely.”

Julian huffed. “Hey! I used it to bail dad out of trouble.”

“And he’s letting you sit in debt-soup. Fucking Christ. Just stay the fuck away from Rory, okay?”

Julian pursed his lips and sat back, looking out the window. “He says I can work it off with him.”

Agger glared at Julian in the rearview mirror. “Do you _want_ to go to prison?”

“Of course not.”

“Good. It’s not a happy place. And the kind of shit Rory’s up to is all shit that will land you there for 5 to 15 years. So _stay the fuck_ away from him.”

Julian threw up his hands. “Alright! I got it!”

Martin looked out the window as they drove on, Agger and Julian both stewing silently. Their respective bad moods were radiating off them. 

It was hypocritical. Agger would go away for 20 years when he got caught (and he would get caught when Martin had gathered enough information to take his group down). He was hardly in a position to lecture anyone on crime and punishment. 

He refused to think about the fact that the money Agger planned to get for Rory wasn’t his debt to begin with. It had nothing to do with the case Martin was building. 

“I was only trying to help you,” Julian confessed. 

Agger sighed. “I know.” His voice was surprisingly soft. “But don’t, okay? I’ll take care of it.”

“Okay.” 

They went silent again, but there was no smothering atmosphere this time. 

“I’m hungry,” Julian said after a moment. 

Martin turned to see Agger look in the rearview mirror again. His brow was pinched. “I’ve got some hamburgers at home?”

“Yeah, that’d be good.”

 

//

 

It was nearly 5 am. Martin was so tired he no longer felt it. It reminded him of double shifts on patrol. It felt like it was so long ago, but he’d only been undercover for nearly a month.

Julian was sitting on the couch, munching on his hamburger.

Agger appeared from his bedroom with a pile of clothes in his arms. “Take a shower when you’re done. You look like you need it.”

Julian nodded, chewing on a mouth full. “I haven’t been home in three days. Mom was blitzed and crazy. And dad was in one of his moods.”

Having seen their mother, Martin felt a pang of sympathy for the kid. She was the kind of parent that couldn’t even take care of herself, let alone a child. Much like his own mother had been. At least she’d loved him enough to know he’d be better off without her. 

It seemed that Julian hadn’t eaten in a while. He polished off three hamburgers before he stopped and Martin got the feeling he wasn’t so much full as he was tired of eating. 

Agger pushed on Julian’s back, trying to get him off the couch. “Take a shower, shithead.” His tone of voice was dry, but he sounded affectionate. 

Martin wanted to tear his hair out and forget that Julian existed. His role in Agger’s life was complicating everything. 

 

//

 

“I’m going crazy,” Martin said into the phone as he paced the floor of his apartment. “Two months of this shit and I’ve been on a run with Garrity exactly once. How much longer is this going to take?” 

“I know it’s difficult for you, but I need you to stick it out, Kelly,” Vasquez said. “The feds are no closer on the fentanyl-end and we don’t have anything on these guys. Agger’s the only one we have anything on and even if he was the one we were after, it still wouldn’t be enough.”

Martin sighed, rubbing his thumb over his brow. “Are you kidding me? You probably have enough to convict _me_ with and I’m just here to do a job.”

Vasquez chuckled and Martin felt the tension in his chest lessening a little despite himself. “Hang tight, Kelly. We won’t be able to do anything until the next shipment comes in.”

He’d thought as much, but hoped it’d be sooner. 

“Has Agger said anything?”

Martin had spent almost every day with Agger to some extent. He’d said a lot of things, but nothing about a shipment. “No. I don’t think he knows.”

“Well, then we have no clue about the timeline. You’re going with him tonight?”

“Yeah. It’s a routine deal, though. Nothing high profile. Garrity won’t be there.”

Vasquez exhaled. “I didn’t think he would. But don’t change anything. Keep going with Agger. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Okay.”

“Hang tough. You can do this,” she said, her voice firm with conviction. “And Kelly?”

“Yeah?”

“Happy birthday.”

 

//

 

His birthday. He’d forgotten about it. He was so wrapped up in Garrity, Agger and the drugs that he’d completely lost track of time. Time didn’t run the same way when you were undercover. Sometimes it seemed so much slower than anything in the real world, but other times the activities and the jobs would come frequently and run longer and suddenly it was next week. 

He buried his head in his hands and fought against a sigh. He hadn’t seen or heard from his grandmother since he’d gone in. It was the longest he’d ever been away from her. Was she still in good health? Was her heart still alright? Was Ben taking good care of her? 

His chest was heavy and compressed and he swallowed past the lump forming in his throat. He formed an ‘oh’ with his mouth and exhaled slowly. 

Fuck it. He deserved to see his grandmother on his birthday. 

 

//

 

The moment he opened the door, he started to doubt his decision to come here. No doubt he’d been followed by the surveillance operatives and he’d get his ass handed to him by Vasquez the next time he called her. But that wasn’t why. Seeing the inside of the house again – the sofa he almost always fell asleep on after long shifts, the 21 inch television tube, even the hideous off-white carpet – it overwhelmed him with a sense of nostalgia. 

But the scent was even worse than that. It kind of reminded him of tangerine if he thought about it; mild and pleasant. 

The house was everything his apartment wasn’t. 

For a while he just stood in the hallway, beset by the familiarity of everything. He filled with longing and dread and almost turned around and left right without a word.

“Hello?” his grandmother called, her voice wavering. She was probably scared. He wasn’t supposed to be here. God, he needed his head examined. 

“Nan, it’s me,” he said. His own voice wasn’t all that steady, shrinking as the full weight of his decision struck him. 

“Martin.” She came rushing out of the kitchen, one big bright smile, and wrapped her arms around him. 

He closed his eyes and pushed past the sinking feeling in his chest. 

She pulled back – still smiling – and put her hand on his cheek. “I didn’t think you could visit. I made cake anyway,” she said and disappeared in the kitchen.

Martin took off his shoes and walked inside. Since he’d already maxed out his stupidity today, he might as well stay for a little while. 

Distracted by the sound of plates clinking in the kitchen, Martin didn’t notice when the living room window opened until Agger was standing in front of him. 

Martin’s eyes widened. “You can’t be here.”

Agger took out his pack of Marlboros. “What’s with cuddling the little old lady?” His lips loosely enfolded the tip of the cigarette. 

Martin jumped up and snatched it from his mouth. “You can’t smoke in here. How the hell did you know where I was anyway?”

Agger smirked. “I followed you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” His heart was pounding and he could see his fate sealed. Agger would find out he was a cop and he’d kill him. He’d compromised everything by coming here. Risked not just his life but his grandmother’s too. 

“Relax,” Agger sing-songed. “I just saw you from across the street.”

“Oh, really?” Martin drawled with icy sarcasm. “That makes you much less of a stalker.”

“Who’s a stalker, love?” His grandmother said as she came out of the kitchen again. 

Martin’s mouth went dry. “Daniel,” he said, keeping his voice steady. “He’s a colleague from the job I told you about.” He tried to convey the message with his eyes. 

His grandmother stopped in her tracks, either from the sight of Daniel – in black jeans and dark T-shirt, tattoo sleeves on full display – or from Martin’s message. 

Agger put another cigarette in his mouth. 

Martin rolled his eyes and took that one too. “Didn’t I _just_ tell you can’t smoke in here?”

“I can’t ignore you if you keep stealing my cigarettes.”

“As if you broke in here specifically to ignore me. I think you’re confusing ‘ignore’ with ‘annoy’.”

His grandmother giggled. Martin’s felt as if he’d been swallowed whole and all that was left of him was his anxiety, slinking back and forth in his limbs like a snake. 

“No need to argue. Goodness me. He can smoke out back.” There was something off about the cadence of her voice. It was light enough, but Martin could tell it was forced. She’d gotten the message. She was trying to help him.

His nerves were a string stretched so tight it was about to snap. 

Daniel made his way to the backdoor. 

As Martin heard it slide open and then closed, he let out the heavy breath he’d been holding. “I shouldn’t have come here. I’m sorry.”

His grandmother smiled her sad little smile. “Are you okay, love?”

Another deep breath trickled out of him. “Yeah. I’m fine. I promise. I’m gonna grab Daniel and leave. I should never have come here.” 

He marched over to the backdoor. His nerves weren’t wound as tight, but he still felt as if they might snap. He slid the door open. “We gotta go.”

 

//

 

“Who was that?”

“My grandmother. And I do not appreciate you stalking me and breaking into her house.”

Agger started the car. “I didn’t break anything. And at least I told you I followed you.”

Maybe it was the increased blood pressure, the stress still pouring into his system, but Martin wasn’t finished. “An honest stalker is still a stalker. You were in a house you weren’t invited into. How is that not breaking and entering?”

Agger shot him an exasperated look. “How the fuck would I know? I’m neither a cop nor a lawyer. And in case you forgot, I’m not exactly a model citizen.” He turned too fast, narrowly avoiding hitting the curb.

Martin got a grip on himself. He managed to get his rage under control. His anger with himself would not disappear so easily. What the hell had he been thinking?

 

//

 

“That was a stupid, _stupid_ thing you did today,” Vasquez said. Her voice had the edge of authority, but she wasn’t yelling. 

Martin rubbed his temple and sighed. “I know.” He flopped down on the sofa, exhausted from the strain of the day.

“The whole operation could’ve collapsed just because you were lonely. You sleep with Agger every night, you’re hardly ever alone.”

Irritation took hold of him, clawing its way out. “It’s not exactly a meaningful relationship. We fuck.” 

“You can’t _have_ a meaningful relationship. Not while you’re undercover.”

“What do you do when nothing’s happening on this front? Do you go home? Do you see your husband? Your siblings? Your parents?”

It took her a few seconds to answer. “Yes.”

“Well, I don’t have a husband or a mother, a father or any siblings. My grandmother is all the family I have.”

There was another pause and all Martin could hear was the hum of his refrigerator. “I sympathize, Kelly, but you can’t let this happen again.” 

“It won’t.” 

He’d never put his grandmother in danger like that again.

 

//

 

The deal was relatively small, but Garrity wanted capable hands on it. This wasn't their turf. It was Ricky's. The name finally clicked for Martin. Ricky Barnett. A member of the former East Melwood mob.

Martin had landed himself not just in the middle of the seedy world of an up-and-coming mobster, but in the middle of a turf war. It was only a matter of time before something went wrong.

Things didn’t start to go sour until after the deal was done. 

 

They were leaving the building when two men advanced on them. Instinctively, Martin knew they were a part of Barnett’s crew. One quick look at Agger told him he knew it too. Martin was closer to the car. Agger took out his car keys and tossed them to him, before they reached them. 

The shorter man strode over to Agger. “You’re on the wrong side of East Melwood, wouldn’t you say?”

Agger shrugged and lit a cigarette. “I’m right where I planned to be.”

The taller one moved over to him in one swift movement – the speed and aggression designed to intimidate, but Agger just smirked. 

“Now you listen here, Agger. Ricky doesn’t want no deals on this side of East Melwood, so why don’t you tell Garrity to fuck off with his business elsewhere.”

Agger took a long drag of his cigarette before lowering his hand. “Who’s doing any deals? And for the record, Garrity doesn’t fuck off anywhere.”

Martin opened the driver’s side door of the car. He didn’t get in. Instead he just stood there. This was the first confrontation between any of Garrity’s and Barnett’s people. Most likely it would just be threats and messages, but he wasn’t taking any chances.

The taller of the men advanced closer to Agger. “We know about your ‘High Fly’ or whatever the hell. What? Are downers back in style all of a sudden?”

Martin scoffed. “Downers never went out of style, brainiac.” It was true, though style was probably the least appropriate word for it. 

Agger grinned at him. Martin could feel his lips stretch upward into a smile of his own. 

The cliché about the big mobster’s goons was true to life it seemed. These guys were idiots. 

“Any other nuggets of wisdom you want to impart to us?” Martin asked.

The shorter man frowned intensely, pointing his finger at Martin accusingly. “Just tell Garrity to stay the fuck off our turf.”

“Will do,” Martin said. “Daniel, come on.”

“I’m sorry to cut the entertainment short, but we really gotta go,” Agger said. He pushed past the taller man and got in the car. Martin waved to Barnett’s goons and got in the car as well. 

Martin stuck the key in the ignition and started the car. As he pulled out into the street, he became aware of Agger’s eyes on him. Ignoring him appeared to be the best course of action, but he could feel his skin getting warmer under his gaze. 

 

//

 

He expected to be mauled the moment Agger opened the door to his apartment. He’d been gazing at him in the car every ten seconds. It didn’t happen. Martin wasn’t sure what that tension in his chest was. He ignored that as well. 

Agger sat on the couch and switched the TV on. 

Martin plopped down next to him. Ignoring the tautness in his chest didn’t make it any better. Martin closed his eyes, and focused his mind on the job.

The next thing he knew, he was grabbing Agger by the head and crashing his lips onto his. 

Agger made an admittedly delicious sound, halfway between a sigh of surprise and a moan of approval. His hands wound around Martin’s hips and he dragged him on top of him. 

Martin sat straddling him – Agger’s hands slipping underneath his T-shirt, fingertips burning into his skin. He flicked his tongue out and licked over Agger’s lower lip. Agger opened his mouth to him and Martin felt pleasantly warm.

Martin’s hand slid down Agger’s clothed chest. Were the surveillance guys watching them now? Vasquez knew Martin was sleeping with Agger. ‘Morally grey’ didn’t mean shit to her it seemed. There had been no reprimand for him. Vasquez was all about protocol and there was none for this. 

Agger captured Martin’s wrist. His fingers pressed into his pulse and the thought was gone from Martin’s mind. Christ. Martin still could barely believe the effect a bit of rough handling had on him. Agger pressed Martin’s hand down between their bodies and broke the kiss. 

His eyes were dark and his lips swollen. “Touch yourself,” he rasped. “I want to watch.”

Martin’s breath caught in his throat. For one short second, this thing – whatever it was – between them felt like something else entirely. Like he wasn’t a cop and Agger wasn’t a criminal. No job. No drugs. No group. He caught himself and pushed the thought out of his head. Thinking like that was dangerous. He had to know where the line was. All the time.

Martin attempted a grin and before he even really thought about it, he was kissing Agger again. 

Agger took Martin’s T-shirt off and then just sat back, waiting. 

Martin licked his lips – the taste of Agger’s lips still lingered on his own – and watched as Agger’s mouth opened slightly in response. 

Martin had never been self conscious when it came to sex, but he figured he was pretty close to it now. It wasn’t the proximity or the fact that he was sitting on Agger’s lap, but the way his stomach clamped together when he looked into Agger’s dark eyes and saw nothing but anticipation. He’d never been one for putting on a show. 

Agger leaned closer, his breath hitting Martin’s chest as he said just above a whisper: “Do you need help?”

Martin’s heart might have sped up a little. His face flushed and he leaned forward. “Only if you want to?”

Agger licked his lips and grasped Martin by the wrist again. He guided it up from where it lay at his side and first he made him touch his neck. Martin had figured it out by the second time they fucked that Agger had a thing about his neck. It wasn’t until the third time they fucked that he figured out he liked it. 

Agger’s hand covered his – careful not to touch him anywhere else – and he guided his hand further down his naked chest. 

Martin’s skin was ablaze. His hand trailed down his pecs, brushing over one hardening nipple and then trailing even further down, caressing over his abs in a feather-light touch. 

They reached the waist of his jeans and Agger retracted his hand. 

Martin opened his jeans, his eyes automatically meeting Agger’s, and when he stuck his hand inside, his touch lacking the grace that it had when Agger had been guiding him. He only just now realized that there hadn’t been a rough or forceful touch in that entire display. Instantly, his head clouded with confusion. 

He felt himself get hard, but everything had just gotten a thousand times more complicated. Agger didn’t touch him softly. He never had. He bit down on his lip and tried to think. It didn’t mean anything. This whole fucked up situation was messing with his head. 

Everything about this was starting to get uncomfortable. “Fuck me.”

Agger smirked that infuriating smirk of his. “Soon enough.”

Martin pulled his hand up out of his jeans. “No. Now.” 

“Take off your clothes.”

Martin didn’t. 

Agger yanked on his hair again and a brand new bolt of arousal rushed into his bloodstream. 

Agger pulled on his hair again, angling his head to the side and Martin breathed out hard. Agger licked over his jugular and grazed his teeth over the sensitive skin. “Touch yourself and then I’ll suck you and fuck you till you come so hard you black out.” 

Martin moaned helplessly, his face hot and cock desperately hard and neglected. The balance to their interaction was almost restored, but he still felt a little off-kilter. 

He got off Agger long enough to take off the rest of his clothes. He licked his palm and closed his fist around his cock, pumping languidly. 

Agger’s eyes never left him and as Martin’s breathing came a little heavier, louder, Agger moved his hand to cup his own cock through his black jeans. Martin could see the outline of it through his jeans. He was already hard. 

In one swift move, Agger flipped them over so that Martin landed on his back on the floor, with Agger on top of him. Agger kissed him, his tongue flitting just inside the corner of Martin’s mouth. Martin made an eager sound – not quite a moan but getting there – and grasped Agger’s hair as he flicked his tongue out to meet Agger’s. 

Agger ground against his thigh and sighed into the kiss that was getting dirtier and more insistent by the second. He placed his hand loosely around Martin’s neck and broke the kiss. 

When Martin leaned up for another kiss, his grip tightened, holding him in place. Agger licked a stripe up Martin’s neck and then down his chest. Martin’s breathing was coming in soft gasps. His whole body felt overheated, sweat starting to build on his brow and back. 

Agger enclosed his mouth around one of Martin’s nipples, using his teeth and tongue to tease. Martin closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the floor with a subdued thud. 

When Agger finally put his mouth on Martin’s cock, it was like hot liquid was poured into his stomach. Agger hollowed his cheeks and slowly took almost all of him in. Martin opened his mouth but nothing came out except the sound of his ragged breathing. He raised his head to watch. 

Not all guys look good giving head, but the sight of Agger was amazing. His hand was around the base of him, stroking up to meet his mouth. His cheeks were flat and Martin could see the bulge of his cock inside his mouth when he took him in. He moaned and reached his hand out to weave in Agger’s short hair. His hair was damp and his face flushed. 

Martin tossed his head back again, moaning louder. The pressure was building in his balls. 

Agger’s mouth left him but he kept pumping him. He licked two fingers thoroughly, eyes locked on Martin’s before taking him back in his mouth. Martin writhed as Agger slid his fingers inside. 

Beads of sweat trickled down his neck, collecting on his collar bone. Agger crooked his fingers and Martin arched his back, a throaty gasp escaping his lips as Agger’s fingers brushed against his weak spot. 

Agger’s mouth left him again, but he scissored his fingers and Martin opened his mouth again. Agger crashed his mouth against Martin’s and swallowed his moan. He rammed his fingers back up and Martin was about to explode. 

Agger nibbled his earlobe. “Don’t come yet,” Agger growled into his ear. 

Martin bit his lip and nodded, eyes half-lidded. His whole body was burning, a tension knotting in his chest and stomach, begging to be released. 

He closed his eyes and started counting. He was up to forty when Agger’s mouth left him as well as his fingers. It took him a moment to open his eyes. 

Agger was naked and hard, the head of his cock slick with precome. Martin hadn’t even touched him yet. He was unraveling from nothing but what he was doing to Martin. Something inside Martin constricted, but thankfully he didn’t really have time to dwell on it before Agger was on top of him again, lips folded as he sucked on his neck. He sucked too hard, the hot surge of arousal mixing with a bit of pain as well. 

Martin groaned low in his throat. God, he needed more. He pulled Agger’s head toward his. Before he could get a word out, Agger was once again devouring his mouth. 

Martin arched his back and pushed up against him. 

Agger broke the kiss. 

Martin hurriedly grabbed a condom wrapper from the floor where Agger had tossed it. He ripped it open with less than graceful movements, eliciting a breathy chuckle from Agger. 

The chuckle abruptly died as Martin rolled the condom on Agger’s cock. 

Agger spread Martin’s cheeks apart, one hand clutching his ass a little too tightly; which now that his body was primed to respond to Agger’s less-than-gentle touch felt just right. 

Agger’s body covered his again, the hand placed to the right of Martin’s head supporting most of his weight as he brushed the tip of his cock over Martin’s sensitive pucker. It sent thrills right to his own cock, but it wasn’t enough. 

Martin locked his hand at the back of Daniel’s neck, but Agger grabbed his wrist tightly and pushed his arm up over his head, pinning him down with a firm grip on his wrist. 

“Jesus, Daniel. Stop teasing.” He sounded whiny and hopelessly turned on, but he was long past caring. 

Daniel pushed the tip just inside him and pulled out again. “Beg.”

“Oh, God,” he moaned, every one of his senses tipped into overdrive. Agger was rocking back and forth. His pupils were blown and his lips red and swollen. He looked as desperate for release as Martin. Martin could barely speak. He put his free hand on the back of Agger’s head and leaned up to kiss him. 

Agger backed away enough to break the kiss. “Beg and I’ll fuck you real good.”

Martin bit back a groan. “Please,” he whispered. “Please. I need this.”

His whole body spasmed and he huffed out a heavy breath as Agger pushed fully inside him, stretching him wide. 

As always, Agger gave him no time to adjust before he began thrusting in and out with furious pace. 

The sound of skin slapping against skin and Agger’s low, almost quiet groans mixed with Martin’s broken moans. 

Agger gripped his other wrist and pinned that one above his head as well, resting all his weight on the one hand holding both his down, his other one digging into his hip. Martin’s cock was abandoned. He needed to jerk himself off, but as he tried to move his hand, Agger squeezed his wrists harder. 

He moved the hand resting on Martin’s hip to his cock and started to stroke him. It was slow, out of sync with the wild snap of his hips and the juxtaposition was driving Martin crazy. 

He slid upward on the floor with every thrust as Agger pounded into him. Agger jerked him off faster, his face red with exertion. His mouth hung open, his breath coming in short, forceful gasps. 

He let go of Martin’s wrists. Martin reached up, running his fingers over Agger’s back. Feeling the scars under his fingertips. 

His mouth fell open and his head nearly vibrated, his upper body rigid as his climax finally washed over him with a final, deep moan. 

Agger pumped every last drop of come onto Martin’s stomach and came with an uncharacteristically loud groan a second later. 

Martin winced as Agger pulled out moments later. The skin on his back was sticking to the floor with sweat. Agger’s hair was dripping perspiration onto his face. His skin was colored pink from the chest up. He looked incredible.

Martin screwed his eyes shut and got his head back in the game. He couldn’t afford to think of Agger as anything but a means to an end.

 

Martin waited until Agger was asleep and had been for about fifteen minutes before he slinked away into the bathroom and dialed Vasquez. 

“Hello?” It was Michael. 

Martin puffed out his cheeks and exhaled, pushing down the sudden influx of irritation he felt. He guessed Vasquez needed to sleep sometime. “I need everything you guys have on Barnett and Garrity’s history.”

Michael snorted. “Why, are you suddenly interested in doing your job?”

“Look, Michael,” Martin hissed, careful to keep his voice as quiet as his anger would let him. “If you got a problem with me, that’s fine, but Barnett and Garrity’s relationship is not only relevant to this operation, it’s a bomb waiting to explode, so I need to know everything you have on their history. It directly affects me and thus it directly affects your job as well, so don’t fucking give me shit and just do your goddamned job.” His voice was rising a little too much and he quickly hung up, caught between anger and panic. 

He sat on the toilet and rubbed his hands over his face. He took a deep breath and sighed. Fuck, he was in hazardous territory. Risking a phone call to his undercover team with Agger in the next room was stupidly dangerous enough, but to do it yelling was a whole other brand of stupid.

He got up and splashed some cold water on his face. He stared at himself in the mirror and sighed again. 

He’d just exited the bathroom when there was a knock on the door.

He half expected it to be Agger’s shitty excuse for a mother again, but instead when he opened the door Julian was on the other side. 

Julian smiled, but it didn’t look very convincing. “Hey, dude. Dan here?”

Martin, suddenly aware that he was wearing nothing but boxers and answering the door to someone else’s apartment, opened the door wider and treaded back to Agger’s bedroom. 

“Daniel,” he said, voice coming out a lot softer than he’d intended. “Your brother’s here.”

Agger ‘hmmed’ and slowly opened his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Around 2.”

“Fuck,” Agger said and rubbed his eyes. He sat up. “Okay. I’m up.”

As Agger left the room, Martin sat down on the bed. He stared at his hands for a moment before throwing himself back on the bed and covering his face with them. He could hear them talking. 

“So mom hasn’t been to sleep in like four days, she’s drunk as fuck and dad’s being a dick, so can I crash on your couch?” Julian was saying, his voice a little uneven. “I promise you won’t even notice me. You guys can still fuck or whatever.”

Agger chuckled. “Julian--”

“Please, Dan. I can’t take any more of her yelling and throwing things and calling me a mistake and--”

“Julian,” Agger said more firmly. “Calm down, alright? I can’t guarantee she won’t come hunting you down once it’s convenient for her to want to find you, but you can always stay.”

Martin did his best to tune them out. The less he knew of Daniel’s good side the better.

What would happen to Julian when Martin helped put Agger away for 20 years? And what would happen to Agger? He hated prison. He’d been shanked and beat up and pretty much made more miserable than he’d ever been. Then again, for someone that hated prison, he’d been inside pretty damn often. Vasquez hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said he’d been in and out of prison since he was 15. As the saying went don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time.

He was almost asleep when he heard the door shut.

Frustrated with himself, Martin sat up with jerky movements. “Damn it, Daniel. I was almost asleep.”

Agger lifted the cigarette to his lips again and took a drag, hard eyes piercing through Martin. “Nobody asked you to sleep here.”

Martin groaned and let himself fall back against the bed again, hands over his face. He should’ve known Agger wouldn't take too kindly to that. In fact, why was he complaining in the first place? It’s not like he actually minded, and although he’d been so close to falling asleep, it was his own aggravation with this complicated fucked up situation. He had to put a filter on his thoughts or they would land him in deep fucking shit. He sighed and felt Agger’s hand come to rest on his neck.

“Martin.”

The soft touch sent stabs of discomfort through his gut. “What?”

“What the fuck’s the matter with you?”

Martin’s mind was on overdrive and he felt fucking guilty. He groaned. “Nothing.”

His fingers pressed into Martin’s skin. Familiar. “You were fine an hour ago, so talk.”

Martin ripped Agger’s hand away. “Fine. You want to talk, let's talk.” He needed a reminder that Agger wasn’t the good person he was to his brother. “Let's talk about your assault charges.”

Agger gripped Martin’s chin and leaned close, his hot breath ghosting over Martin’s face. “Let's get one thing straight. Whatever’s on my record is none of your fucking business.”

Martin tore himself out of Agger’s grasp and grabbed his wrists. Agger fought against him and managed to free his hands. Martin made a grab for his arm and a struggle broke out. The air was charged as Agger landed on top of him. Agger got his arm free and a red spot was already forming. It did weird things to Martin. It was kind of hot, in the way that Agger being rough with him was.

Agger held him down, but Martin grasped him by the throat. He could feel his pulse underneath his fingers. They both went tense and squeezed their fingers tighter.

Martin reached his head up but Agger shoved him back. He did it again and this time Agger leaned forward to meet him. Their mouths smashed into each other forcefully, teeth clashing and tongues searching.

Agger yanked Martin’s boxers down. Then his own. 

Martin closed his eyes, the threads of guilt still wrapped into a knot inside his chest, not dissolving fast enough. He felt a tug on his hardening cock and opened his eyes. Agger had a well lubed hand around him, stroking him hard and fast as he crashed their lips together again. 

Agger’s stroked him at a furious pace, his mouth against his jaw, raking his teeth along the bone, then biting down on his neck. 

Martin breathed out a moan. 

“Ssh,” Agger said. 

Martin bit his lip and reached down to stroke Agger as well. He felt like he was 16 again. A hand job had never been hotter and more satisfying than this one. It drove him wild the way Agger seemed to need to have him now. He’d never experienced something like that before. Sex was good, and his former boyfriends had been varying degrees of good in bed, but this almost constant need to touch him, to kiss him, to fuck him, to make him come, he’d never been with a man who was like that with him before. 

He dropped his hand from Agger’s cock, but it didn’t deter Agger any. He licked over the crook of his neck and then bit down, not too hard, but hard enough to send bolts of electricity through his body. 

Martin was starting to pant, still trying to keep his voice down. 

Agger nudged Martin’s neck with his face – nose brushing against the soon-to-be-bruised skin. “Do you want my fingers in you?” He whispered near his ear. His voice was rough but low and seductive, like sex in voice form. 

“Yes. Fuck, yes.” He sounded out of breath.  
Agger hoisted himself up with one arm, his other slowing down the movements on Martin’s cock, before letting go to hold himself up with that arm, while he licked first one finger, then two. Martin began to stroke himself as Agger licked the third and then all three together.

He panted and arched his back, letting the back of his head bury into the mattress. 

Agger slapped his hand away, and replaced it with his own, prodding at his entrance with two fingers. As they slid in Martin groaned and started to fuck himself on Agger’s fingers right away, conditioned by Agger’s lack of patience whenever he fucked him open. 

Agger stroked him and kissed his chest. “Can you take three?”

“Yeah. O-Oh, yeah.” He somehow managed to say it quietly. 

Agger smirked and teased his nipple between his teeth, the pace of hand jerking him quicker, and squeezed his third finger inside him as well, fucking him with precision, pressuring his prostate and then easing up. Martin felt his orgasm building fast and all Agger had to do was force his tongue inside his mouth and he was coming, big spurts of come hitting his and Agger’s chests. Agger milked him dry and then jerked himself off, quick and hard, coming onto Martin’s chest as well. 

Then he leant down and licked it all off.

Agger was still trying to catch his breath, barely limp yet, his chest heaving when he lit a cigarette and lied on his back next to Martin. 

Martin shook his head and snatched the cigarette from between his fingers, but before Agger could protest, he took a drag. He breathed most of the smoke back out, only taking a little part of it into his lungs. He returned the cigarette and lied back down. 

“So that was…” He couldn’t finish the sentence. It was that uncomfortable, almost intimate territory again, only now he was the one ushering them into it.

“Yep,” Agger mumbled around his cigarette. 

This new twist in their relationship (however deceitful it was) only made things worse for Martin. It took him an hour to get to sleep and even when he did, the jittery discomfort inside him was still there, clawing at him just beneath the surface.

 

//

 

“Kip just called. He's got a customer who just graduated from bundle to brick,” Agger said and grabbed his keys off the coffee table.

Kip was a small time dealer. How bad did your addiction have to get if you bought a bundle every time you wanted to get a fix? It had to be pretty fucking bad. But buying a brick not to sell but to use that was twice as bad. So far, Martin had only seen the customers who were selling and handful of well paid functional addicts who bought in bricks to not have to buy as frequently.

Agger drove them to an apartment building that looked even more rundown and grimy than Martin’s. The graffiti on the side walls was darker and cruder, contrasting with the lukewarm sunshine that seemed to want to cover every nook and cranny. 

The girl they were meeting was sickly grey and shaking. Her eyes were sunken and she was about 20 pounds too thin. She couldn’t have been more than 16. 

Uneasiness washed over Martin like a flood. She was just a kid and they were helping her destroy her life. His mother started using drugs around her age and she’d only lived to be 23. Younger than he was now. 

He’d never known who his father was. His mother either didn’t know or he just didn’t want to be a part of it. She’d been 17 when she had him. It was baffling how she’d stayed clean for the whole nine months of pregnancy but a month after he was born she’d relapsed. A week on the downward spiral and when she finally sobered up enough to hear her mother out, she’d decided to give Martin up. 

Looking at the girl now, Martin had never been more thankful that his mother had given him up. He’d grown up with little money but a lot of love and his grandmother had raised him to be the man he was. At least the man he had been. Would he ever be that person again?

“You Agger?” Her voice was scratchy.

“The one and only.” Heavy on the snarkiness. Was Agger uncomfortable too? 

The girl’s teeth were brown with filth and she smelled crusty, like she’d been sleeping in a pile of dust. For all Martin knew, she had been. He thought of his mother again and that same cutting feeling came over him again. 

She showed Agger the money and Martin couldn’t stand it anymore. He turned around and treaded back to the car. 

Agger came back about ten minutes later. “Why’d you disappear on me?”

“How long do you think she has?”

“You can’t think about that. It’ll ruin you long before it does her.”

Martin turned to face him. There was something in what he said that made Martin think Agger would have had sympathy for the girl. Maybe he had in the early days. He was in this thing, despite it. For Julian.

“How much money does Julian owe Rory?” He shouldn’t have asked. Nothing good could come of him knowing the extent of the debt Agger and his brother were in. 

“65 grand,” he said. “He bailed his dad out of the shit and the fucking dickbag’s letting him sit in it.”

 

//

 

Still perturbed when they got to Garrity’s bar, Martin walked right up to the bar table. 

“Bourbon.”

The bartender eyed him for a moment. He felt like shit. He must’ve looked like it too. 

Agger came up to the bar when the bartender poured Martin his bourbon and placed it in front of him. Martin clutched the glass and downed the entire content in one sip. The slightly sweet taste got lost in the burn of the alcohol in his throat. 

Agger snorted. “You planning on getting hammered?”

Martin ignored him in favor of sliding his glass back to the bartender. “Another one.”

“Alright, you stay here and get shitfaced. I’ll be right back.”

Martin took a little more time drinking his second drink. He polished it off in about a minute though. He still felt anxious and wrong. He didn’t feel like a cop anymore. He hadn’t felt like one in weeks. 

He twirled the glass in his hand, his head thick with self-loathing. The allotted two drinks weren’t enough to mask his unrest. 

He slid his glass back toward the barkeeper. “Another one.” 

 

Martin woke up with a dull headache. He’d drank more than he should have the night before. At least he was in his own bed, he thought as he crawled out of it. Thankfully, he remembered everything from the night before. Good. He didn’t say anything incriminating. He hadn’t done anything that would have made Agger suspicious. In fact, Agger had laughed a lot last night. 

Martin smiled at the reflection, but it faded quickly. He needed to shower, shave and brush his teeth, but he stopped when he was halfway to the bathroom. He reached for his cell phone and dialed Vasquez. 

“Hello.” It was her. 

Martin felt himself relax a little. “Hey, got anything on the bad blood between Garrity and Barnett?”

“Nothing substantial. They were both in the East Melwood mafia when Melwood’s finest finally managed to take them down. Garrity went away. So did Barnett. Both made vows to take East Melwood back, make it theirs. Whatever bad blood there is it’s gotta be that.”

Martin pressed two fingers to his temple to alleviate the tame pounding. “Yeah, but why go against each other?”

“I don’t know.” As she sighed, so did he.

“Any news of a new shipment yet?”

“No. No one’s said anything about it.”

 

//

 

Martin met Agger at Garrity’s bar. When he walked inside, he was met with a burly physique, square jaw and black curly hair. It took Martin a moment to recognize the man in front of him; Angelo Moretti. Kellan Garrity stood off to the side, ginger hair sticking up at the front. The main man, Desmond Garrity himself was instructing Agger on something. 

Agger looked fiercely determined, jaw set and brow creased as he concentrated on what Garrity had to say. 

Garrity issued Martin a curt nod. “Ah, Campbell, you’re here. Good. Then let’s do this thing.” 

The name was so unfamiliar to Martin he almost forgot it was supposed to be his. Agger always used his first name; his real name.

Martin scratched his cheek. “Not that it matters, but what thing?” The nonchalance with which he said it wasn’t acted or fake in any way. 

He was losing himself; one piece at a time. The longer he stayed undercover, the less he’d feel about anything. Except the one thing that had the potential to be the biggest disaster yet; the one person he couldn’t feel anything for. Agger. 

Garrity frowned. The man was always serious. “It’s a snatch mission.”

Martin shrugged. “What are we snatching?”

Kellan’s eyes were fiery. “Less questions. More actions.”

Martin shrugged again. 

It wasn’t what they were snatching. It was who. Martin went in Agger’s car. The rest of them piled into Kellan’s car. 

Barnett’s men were standing outside a strip joint on the other side of East Melwood. One was smoking a cigarette, the other a cigar. Agger, Kellan and Angelo marched up to them. Kellan had a handgun drawn. Martin was standing too far away to make out what they were saying, but it only took half a minute to threaten them into getting in the car. 

Agger came jogging back. “Get in.”

Martin hurried back inside the car. The tires shrieked as Agger turned back into the street twice as hard and fast than what was generally preferable. 

Twenty minutes later, they were in the abandoned lumber yard again. 

Martin got out, searching for some feeling – fear, trepidation, anything – inside himself and coming up with nothing. The atmosphere was oppressive, like something big was in the air. The tension made the air thick. 

The shorter of Barnett’s men spat on Agger’s jacket. Agger – who had a short fuse – growled and threw the first punch, thumping his fist against the short guy’s mouth. There was an audible crack and the man spit a bloodied tooth out of his mouth before he lunged at Agger, who grabbed him and shoved him back until he hit Kellan’s car with a thud.

The taller man made as if to attack Agger, but Kellan got that same wild-eyed look on face as in the bar before and whacked him over the head with a pistol. The tall, lanky man fell to the ground, clutching the back of his head. 

It was five against two (or really four against two as Martin had situated himself conveniently a little to the side) but the short man landed a blow on Agger’s nose. It started bleeding and infuriated Agger more, spurring him on and leading him to knee the man in the gut. Not once. Not twice. But three times. 

The man groaned and fell to his knees. Angelo stepped up. “That’s enough.” 

Desmond Garrity led both men a few steps away from the car. 

Then it came crashing down on him like lead weights. The feeling Martin had been waiting for. His heart thumped against his ribcage and he broke out in a cold sweat. 

Garrity had both Barnett’s men on their knees with their back turned toward them. This was an execution.

Martin couldn’t breathe.

Kellan handed his father the pistol and Angelo walked up next to him with a gun of his own. 

Martin gnawed on his lip. He was powerless to stop this. If he tried, everything he’d worked so hard for would fail. The weeks of strain he’d spent undercover would be for nothing. He’d be dead ten seconds later. 

He turned his body away from the scene and cringed as the shots rang out. Desmond Garrity had declared full-on war on Barnett. 

Martin wished he’d never agreed to do this. That he was sitting at home right now, watching late night reruns of stuff he’d seen a thousand times before while his grandmother slept soundly in the room above the living room. 

“Come on,” Agger shouted. He was already inside the car, turning the key in the ignition. 

Martin willed his limbs to move. It took a second for him to zoom back in on the real world. He paused a second longer and Agger’s frown deepened, his eyes fierce like they’d been when he’d knocked him around in the bar bathroom Martin’s first night in with all of them. 

Martin sprung into a run. One foot in the car and Agger shut his door. He sped out of there before Martin could even close his door. The screeching tires blew up clouds of white smoke.

 

//

 

The moment they entered Garrity’s bar, Martin headed straight to the bathroom. He gripped the porcelain sink until his knuckled turned white. His head hung between his shoulders as he pursed his lips and let out a long drawn out puff of air. He sucked in more air and repeated the action.

He splashed water on his face and the worst of his panic seemed to be over. There was still an odd kind of pressure inside him, but it no longer felt like it would squash him.

The door swung open and Martin turned his head to see Agger come in. 

He closed the door and leaned against it. Neither of them spoke for a while. 

Martin leaned his head down again. 

Agger cleared his throat. “Intense, huh?”

Martin looked up and maybe it was just his imagination, but he thought he saw something in Agger’s eyes. He strode over to him and hesitated a second before he pressed up against him and captured his lips. 

Agger didn’t respond right away, but just before Martin pulled away, he leaned into the kiss and started reciprocating, putting a little force into the kiss as well. 

Martin sighed, feeling a different kind of pressure building in his stomach. A good kind. A distracting kind.

Agger broke the kiss. “Ahhhh,” he said, like it was hard for him to stop. “When we’re done here, I’ll take you home and we can finish this, but right now, Garrity wants to talk to us.”

Martin steeled himself and nodded. “Okay.”

Agger’s hand was still clasped on the back of his neck. He used their proximity to steal a quick kiss. “You good?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I just never…” he rubbed a finger over his eyebrow and let the silence speak for itself. 

“Yeah, me neither. Next shipment is guaranteed to make me at least 70 grand, though. I _need_ that money.”

Eye on the prize. Martin needed to start thinking like that. Eye on the prize. What would he get when this was over? He’d pay his dues for 18 more months patrolling the streets and then he’d make Detective. 

If he wasn’t completely washed up or dead by then.

 

When they got to Agger’s place, the phone was ringing. Agger didn’t hurry his steps along to get it but picked up once he reached the phone. 

Martin plopped down on the sofa and listened in. 

“Hello?” Agger said, and then almost immediately groaned. “What do you want, mom?... He’s at school. What the fuck do you care where he stays?”

Martin caught a glimpse of Agger’s face, which was turning red. 

“You’re so fucking sick… Fuck you. I’m disease free… Well, it’s better than looking at your permanently come-stained face.” He hung up and plopped down on the sofa next to Martin. 

“Fucking whore,” he mumbled. 

Martin didn’t really know how to deal with that. Agger was blowing off some of his anger by rambling, but he wasn’t _actually_ talking to him. He rarely got personal about anything. And it wasn’t like this was just anything either. It was his relationship with his emotionally abusive mother. Fuck. Life really had dealt him a shit deal.

“She’s not gonna stop until Julian’s back home.” Now he was talking to him, looking at him and not mumbling into his own chest. 

“What are you gonna do?” 

“Nothing. I’m gonna call her a fucking bitch behind her back but I’ve got no power to stop her. Fuck, I could kill her.”

Martin didn’t believe that for a second. Oh, he didn’t doubt that mechanically Agger could, but the Daniel he knew wasn’t a murderer. He might’ve been if he really, really, really needed to be – his back against the wall with no way out – but whatever abuse he’d taken from his mother, he’d been taking it for years. Probably since he was just a toddler. If he hadn’t killed her already, he wasn’t going to now. 

It was probably why his terms of endearments for his brother were an affectionately uttered ‘shithead’ and ‘you little asshole’. Dysfunctional, maybe, but Martin didn’t believe Julian took it to heart. Not like their mother’s nicknames, which were all miles worse and never spoken without an underpinning of borderline hatred for her own children. Agger was right. She _was _fucking sick.__

__Martin’s grandmother called him ‘love’. Agger had probably never heard the word said to him in any capacity._ _

__

__//_ _

__

__Agger and Julian were swatting at each other like a couple of three year olds. The line moved forward and Martin stepped closer to the register at the Burger Grill. The girl taking the orders kept eyeing them. At first Martin had thought it was because Agger might as well have been wearing a prison outfit with the way he spoke and carried himself sometimes. But then he noticed her checking him out._ _

__He scoffed and guessed some girls would forever be into bad boys._ _

__She smiled. “Hi. May I take your order?”_ _

__Agger and Julian were too busy laughing to notice it was their turn._ _

__“Guys, what do you want?”_ _

__Julian sidled up to him. “Oh, bacon burger with cheese. Large fries and a coke,” he said. “Oh, and onion rings.”_ _

__Martin chuckled. “Alright, make that two bacon burgers with cheese.”_ _

__“Make it three.” Agger squeezed between Martin and Julian, which made Julian laugh._ _

__“Dude, there’s like a mile of space on the other side of me.” He smirked and Martin nearly lost his shit. He looked almost exactly like Agger, except younger, shorter and blonder, like Agger had said._ _

__Agger pushed him a little. He laughed and threw his arm around him. “Shithead.”_ _

__

__//_ _

__

__“It was Jack,” Agger said that night._ _

__Neither of them had spoken for a while, each one just lying on his side of the bed. Martin rolled onto his back. “What?” He asked, his voice coarse from disuse._ _

__“The assault charges.”_ _

__Martin turned onto his side to be able to see Agger. “Julian’s dad?”_ _

__“I don’t even feel bad about it. The motherfucker deserved it.”_ _

__“What happened?” Martin tentatively pushed on._ _

__“I’ve always hated him.” He stared at the ceiling and blinked. “I just snapped, you know? I grabbed the first thing I saw and just whacked the hell out of him with it. Mom was drunk as fuck as usual, started bawling. She called the cops on me.”_ _

__Martin felt like Daniel was leaving something out of that story. Why did he snap? Was Jack hitting Julian? Or did he say something to Daniel?_ _

__Martin trailed his fingertips down his arm, fingertips bumping over ink covering scars. The realization that he thought of him as Daniel as much as he thought of him as Agger made him hastily put his head down and try to sleep._ _

__//_ _

__

__Daniel put on a pair of cheap sunglasses and started the car._ _

__“Who’s the buyer?” Martin asked, squinting against the sunlight. He opened the window, the heat in the car stifling._ _

__“That girl we sold to like three weeks ago.”_ _

__The teenage girl. The one that had had Martin in a bit of state. The one that his brain had somehow associated with his mother’s addiction and her death._ _

__They met inside the building this time. It reeked so bad Martin had to cough the smell back out as it got into his lungs, and close his nostrils against the offending odor._ _

__They should’ve made her come to Agger’s. Small time dealers often worked like that. Not Daniel. Martin could never figure out why. Sometimes they’d get calls in the middle of the night and they’d go out and they’d deal. Came down to the same thing as far as Martin was concerned. Unless he just didn’t want them there._ _

__The floors were grey with dust and filth and the girl looked worse than she had the first time. She wasn’t alone. There were three other people in there, lying passed out on the floor. Junkies who were too far gone._ _

__Martin took it all in but he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad. This was just business. He didn’t know the girl or the other two people. That couldn’t be good. Before when they’d sold her a brick he’d had to get out of there, the feeling that he was helping her destroy herself had been so bad, but now it was as if he just didn’t care. But she was just a kid. Was it enough that he felt bad about not feeling bad?_ _

__He could hardly stand the smell anymore. He looked toward Agger – who looked like he was wrapping things up – so Martin ventured outside for some clean air._ _

__Outside, the afternoon sun burned into the fabric of his shirt. He breathed in the stuffy city air and exhaled again. He leant against the wall and closed his eyes._ _

__“Well, well. What have we here?”_ _

__Dread sank into his bones as Martin opened his eyes to see Ricky Barnett standing in front of him, three guys behind him, poised to inflict harm._ _

__

__Martin’s heart thumped._ _

__Barnett’s guys made as if to grab him. Martin maneuvered to the right, narrowly ducking a fist that came at him. He slipped on the pavement and swung his leg out to catch himself._ _

__He caught someone’s leg with his and brought him down with him. They’d surrounded him. But he wasn’t going without a fight._ _

__It was long past the time for talking. Garrity had killed two of his guys and Martin was caught in the middle. Bartnett wasn’t here to argue. He wasn’t here to rough him up and send Garrity a message. He was there to kill him. Tit for tat. Take out two of my guys and I’ll take out two of yours._ _

__Barnett’s lips twitched upward. His smile was sugary sweet. “Now, tell me, Campbell, where’s Agger?”_ _

__Martin didn’t know if he was using their names as a scare tactic or if he was meant to be impressed. He felt neither. The name wasn’t even his. And Agger… Daniel was inside. Martin didn’t know what the fuck was taking him so long, but maybe it was for the better that he wasn’t there._ _

__He was a hot-head. The situation would undoubtedly already have escalated into something neither of them would come back from. Not that Martin thought he was coming back from this. But maybe he still had hope._ _

__Someone gripped his arms but he pulled himself free. He tried to turn as a knee came flying at him, but he couldn’t do it fast enough. It crashed into his nose. He heard the crack and the floods of blood came pouring down, all before the searing pain even registered. He swung his hands out and took the guy down with it. The front of his sweatshirt was red. The coppery tinge of blood was on his tongue. His nose throbbed painfully and the blood kept coming._ _

__Another of Barnett’s guys came at him and Martin stood up and made to grab his gun tucked into the back of his trousers. His fingers brushed the handle, but before he could grasp it, three guns were pointed at him._ _

__Martin hesitated. He might get a shot off – two if he was lucky – before he’d get shot himself, but never three. He held his hands up, still empty._ _

__“On your knees,” Barnett said. Execution style? He didn’t have to do everything the same way Garrity did. But as he sank to his knees, he thought this really was effective. It was scary, not knowing when the shot was coming._ _

__His back was turned toward Barnett and the door to the building. He felt the cool barrel against the back of his head and concentrated on breathing for the last time._ _

__The two guys in front of him had their guns on him as well. The third guy got up from the ground._ _

__Martin’s nose was numb. Fear pumped into his heart with his blood, building steadily. He squeezed his eyes shut._ _

__“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Daniel’s voice._ _

__Martin popped his eyes open. Daniel!_ _

__“Either of you two move and Barnett gets a bullet in his head.”_ _

__Good tactic. In the grand scheme of things, they didn’t matter. They weren’t important. Killing them would undoubtedly make things difficult for Garrity. Perhaps it would even piss him off. But it wouldn’t have the same impact on absolutely everything the way killing Barnett would (or for that matter Garrity)._ _

__“Put down your guns.” His voice was gruff._ _

__“It’s four against two, Agger.” The man directly in front of Martin said._ _

__“Maybe. But if you fire, Barnett’s dead,” he said. “Martin, get up.”_ _

__Martin slowly rose to his feet, not hasty in case someone had an itchy trigger finger. He grabbed his Glock and backed up until his back hit the wall. No one could rush him from behind now. He turned his head toward Agger and saw his Sig Sauer pointed at Barnett’s head._ _

__Barnett’s men lowered their weapons, but they didn’t holster them._ _

__Martin held his aim, his trigger finger pressed alongside the trigger guard. “We’re gonna walk to the car and no one’s going to follow us.”_ _

__Barnett’s goons looked to him and he nodded._ _

__Agger took Barnett with him, still at gun-point, until Martin and Agger both reached the car. Then they got in and sped off, leaving Barnett standing on the pavement right next to where they’d been parked._ _

__They’d been driving for about five minutes when Martin checked his nose in the mirror. He squeezed the ridge with two fingers and it didn’t hurt._ _

__“Is it broken?”_ _

__Martin pressed down on it. It was sore to be sure. “No, I don’t think so.” He wiped the blood into the sleeve of his sweater._ _

__Daniel’s eyes strayed toward him a couple of times. Martin was getting his heart rate back to normal. Even though his pulse, beat and breathing were all under control, it felt like nothing was._ _

__Agger lit a cigarette and Martin grabbed the brown paper bag from the backseat. He’d nearly lost his life for what? Some douche bag who had a bone to pick with a not-so-big crime boss? It wasn’t worth it._ _

__He unscrewed the cap from the bottle of bourbon and poured freely down his throat._ _

__“Take it easy on that,” Agger rasped, mumbling around the cigarette hanging from his mouth._ _

__The taste was too strong and it burned a little gulping it down, but another big swig and he was almost alright. He cringed and swallowed. “Why?”_ _

__Agger set his jaw and eyed him once more. “We’re meeting with Garrity tonight and he’s not gonna like it if you’re bombed.”_ _

__Martin took another sip, before screwing the cap back on and tossing the bottle back in the backseat. “What’s the meeting about?”_ _

__“The shipment that’s coming soon. He wants to cut the drugs.”_ _

__Martin had thought this would be coming soon. By now their buyers were thoroughly hooked and selling them a more diluted product made sense in terms of greed and money. He had no problem with it and couldn’t decide if that was good or bad. Hell it might end up being better for the junkies. This way they’d have to use more to achieve the same high, but they wouldn’t overdose so easily now. Buying more would always cost more._ _

__“Well, is the shipment coming tonight?”_ _

__Agger shook his head and finished smoking his cigarette. “No.” He tossed the cigarette butt out the window._ _

__“Then why talk about cutting it now?”_ _

__“How the fuck would I know? I’m just relaying the fucking message.”_ _

__Martin threw up his hands. “Alright, alright,” he said. “Don’t lose your shit. I was just asking.”_ _

__He let the sound of traffic and cars drown out his thoughts. Agger stayed silent as well._ _

__It wasn’t until Agger got on the freeway to get on the other side of East Melwood that Martin spoke up again._ _

__“Did you ever use?” It was nothing but curiosity and a question he’d been better off not asking, but he couldn’t help himself. With Daniel’s upbringing, his family matters, emotional abuse it seemed like a situation where he’d be looking for something to make him forget._ _

__Daniel messed up his hair scratching the back of his neck. He looked at Martin a while before he answered. “I’ve tried pretty much everything at least once. Pot, E, coke, H, speed, crystal… But I didn’t have money to eat on most days; no way could I afford a habit.”_ _

__“Thought you knocked over a convenience store when you were 15.” It wasn’t exactly a question, but it was hardly a statement either. It fell somewhere in the middle._ _

__Agger frowned. “Yeah, Magnum PI, I did. I went to juvie for that, or did you not find that when you were digging around in my past?”_ _

__Martin bit back a smile at Agger’s dated reference. “Yeah, I did. I just thought maybe--”_ _

__“You thought wrong. I tried a bunch of stuff, not enough to get hooked. Why do you think I freak when Julian goes missing? If it crossed my mind, it’s going to cross his.”_ _

__Once again, Martin couldn’t connect what he knew of Agger with the Daniel he knew. “Why do you think that?”_ _

__“‘Cause mom fucking sucks, but at least she never hit me.”_ _

__Martin didn’t have time to mull over the words and what they meant before a car behind them flashed blue lights; the cops were on their tail. He thought Vasquez would handle stuff like this, keep them out of their way. It had the potential to bring the whole thing down. Maybe Vasquez was off duty, but then Michael and Noah should’ve handled it._ _

__Agger’s eyes darted to the review mirror._ _

__Martin watched in the side mirror. Fuck. “Do we have anything in the car? Heroin?”_ _

__“No. Nothing illegal.”_ _

__“Okay. Pull over.”_ _

__Agger swung his head to the side, steel in his eyes. “Are you fucking crazy?”_ _

__“They’ve got nothing. If you try to outrun them, your car’ll get listed and you’re never going to get peace from them. It’ll be search after search after search. Sooner or later, they’re going to find something.”_ _

__He growled but pulled over anyway. “I fucking hate cops.”_ _

__Martin kept his mouth shut on that one. He glanced in the side mirror again and watched as the officers approached on each side of the car. Was that Michael walking toward his side? What the hell was going on?_ _

__“Please step out of the vehicle.”_ _

__Noah? Martin turned and leaned forward to try and see onto Daniel’s side. Sure enough that was Noah._ _

__“You too,” Michael said on his side. Jesus fucking Christ, something had happened. They weren’t meant to contact him. He contacted them. Where the hell was Vasquez?_ _

__Fuck, fuck, fuck. It swirled inside his head like a mantra, but he could think of nothing this could be. The mission was on track. The shipment would be coming soon! What were they thinking interfering like this? It had to be pretty damn important._ _

__He got out of the car and only then registered Agger arguing, swearing and refusing to cooperate. He went quiet as Martin stepped out of the car. Martin locked his eyes on him and for somehow that was enough to get him to come out of the car too._ _

__Michael grasped his arm. Martin jerked it back, only to be slammed face first onto the hood of the car. Noah was slapping handcuffs on Agger._ _

__Michael’s mouth hovered over his ear. “Oh, I better not be too rough,” he whispered. “It might sexually excite you.”_ _

__Martin squirmed and kicked, landing a sharp blow near Michael’s knee but it wasn’t enough to bring him down. He had all the power now._ _

__“Get it together. I’m on _your_ side,” Michael hissed. _ _

__As they were lead into the squad car, Martin felt slow and heavy. He’d never felt more like a criminal in his life. Cuffed and bloody, being pushed into the back of a police vehicle. All he could think about was that they weren’t read their rights._ _

__

__“You can’t interrogate us. You didn’t read us our rights!” Martin barked for the fourth time. They were contacting him for something, but the message, although directed at them was meant for Agger. Just in case. It didn’t really make any sense, but he didn’t care._ _

__“No. But we _can_ charge you and arrest you,” Noah said. _ _

__Martin scoffed. “Sure. But for what? We were just driving. Legally. And whatever we say _can’t_ be used against us, because we weren’t read our rights.”_ _

__Daniel was eerily calm. He didn’t say a single word. It was scarier than any violent outburst of his Martin had witnessed. His eyes trailed over his face. He was just staring out the window, his jawbone more prominent as his jaw jutted. He was pissed off. That had to be a good sign._ _

__They reached the precinct and were taken to separate interrogation rooms. Vasquez sat in her chair. Noah uncuffed him and Martin felt like he was drowning._ _

__“Sit down, Kelly,” Vasquez said._ _

__“What the fuck is going on?” He said, enunciating as if they were hard of hearing, his voice a few decibels above what was acceptable._ _

__An intense look was in her eyes. “Sit.”_ _

__He did, his mind trailing behind him. He couldn’t catch up with himself to even figure out what he was thinking. It was all a big pool of half-finished thoughts, none of which lingered long enough for him to identify them._ _

__“I’m afraid I have some bad news.” His phone was only ever switched on when he contacted her. It was a one-way street._ _

__He stopped breathing._ _

__“Your grandmother’s had a heart attack.”_ _

__He closed his eyes and tried to breathe again but couldn’t. He didn’t even know how to feel. All he felt was the overwhelming lack of direction for his emotions, seeping into everything, his skin, his head, his bones. One part grief, three parts numbness._ _

__“She’s stable for now.”_ _

__The numbness faded, leaving only the sadness beneath it. “Can I see her?”_ _

__She pulled her lips inwards. “I’m sorry, Kelly, but we can’t let you do that.”_ _

__He felt his chest rise and fall with increased intake of breath. His head was reeling, he couldn’t hold onto even a snippet of thought._ _

__“You’ve gotta see this thing through. This is almost over. The closer we get… the less room for errors there is.”_ _

__Michael snorted. “Granny will have to wait.”_ _

__Martin jumped up, knocking over his chair in the commotion. His whole body convulsed with violent rage as he lunged at Michael, voice brought together tight in a loud roar._ _

__Michael faltered and Martin’s hands encircled his neck. His mind was nothing but a thick black cloud._ _

__Michael shoved him off. Vasquez and Noah were yelling, trying to pull him off but Martin was nearly unmovable. Michael pushed his hand flat on his face, trying to push and shove. Martin landed a blow on his torso and another on his jaw before both Noah and Vasquez managed to pull him off him. They trapped his hands firmly behind his back._ _

__Michael got up and flexed his jaw. “Picked up a few moves from your boyfriend, have you?”_ _

__Martin struggled to break free. When he couldn’t he swayed his head backwards and head-butted Michael hard. Michael grasped his forehead and groaned in pain as he tried to stand upright, squinting his eyes._ _

__Vasquez and Noah dragged Martin to the other side of the interrogation room and let him go. Vasquez stood directly in front of him, blocking his path._ _

__“Kelly!” she barked, her forehead nearly colliding with his chin as she stepped too close. “Get your act together!”_ _

__“You will forget what Michael said--”_ _

__He opened his mouth to protest but she jammed a finger in his face._ _

__“You will forget what Michael said and I will forget about the alcohol I smell on your breath. Michael’s apology will be that he doesn’t take any disciplinary action against you. Understood?”_ _

__He blinked, then blinked again and nodded._ _

__“I’m sorry for the timing of this, and you have my sympathies, but you have to finish this off first,” she said. “You’re almost at the finish line. Just a few more yards and you’re home free. See it through.”_ _

__“I will,” he said quietly._ _

__“Now what’s the news on the shipment?”_ _

__Martin clenched his teeth. “I almost got shot today. Where were you?”_ _

__Vasquez breathed out slowly. “If we would’ve intervened and then Agger appeared when he did, the operation would have crumbled.”_ _

__“And if you wouldn’t have intervened and Agger wouldn’t have appeared when he did, I’d be dead.”_ _

__“You agreed to that risk when this whole thing started,” Noah interjected._ _

__Martin didn’t say anything. He just gulped down breath after breath, trying to calm his irritation._ _

__“Now the shipment,” Vasquez reiterated._ _

__Martin sighed and turned the chair he’d knocked down over. “Daniel mentioned something.”_ _

__Michael arched an eyebrow, one corner of his mouth turned up in amusement._ _

__Noah’s mouth opened slightly. “You getting in over your head, kid?” he said softly._ _

__Vasquez’s eyes shot daggers. “Daniel?” She said. “Please tell me you _don’t_ call him that.”_ _

__Martin felt flustered, confused all over again. “H-He freaked when I called him Agger,” he stammered, his face burning._ _

__“This is how lines get crossed. Seemingly innocent stuff that’s a lot more personal than anyone thinks. Imagine if he didn’t call you ‘Campbell’.”_ _

__Martin opened his mouth and closed it, then opened it again. No words were coming out._ _

__Vasquez narrowed her eyes. “He doesn’t, does he? He calls you ‘Martin’?” She groaned. “You should’ve worn a wire.”_ _

__Martin huffed. “And then what? I’d have been dead months ago, because in case you’ve forgotten we’ve been fucking for a while now. Is that not personal?” He didn’t dare tell her that it was all getting mixed up in his head._ _

__“I would have preferred it if it hadn’t gone down that path, but that was all he seemed to be interested in. Sleeping with him was never a good thing, but it was the only way to get him to trust you.”_ _

__“Well, congratulations, it worked. He trusts me.” It made what he’d have to do that much harder._ _

__

__//_ _

__

__Agger stayed quiet the entire drive to his place. They’d missed the meeting with Garrity and he hadn’t been too happy with it. Martin didn’t really know what words were exchanged between the two of them, but it probably hadn’t been very pleasant judging by Daniel’s mood._ _

__Martin’s mind was on his grandmother. Vasquez hadn’t known much about her condition, how she was doing or what the outlook was._ _

__He half expected Agger to drop him off at the shithole that was his apartment – one he rarely stayed in – but as usual he drove them straight to his place. Martin wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He was too worried about his grandmother to want to fuck and how was he going to explain that without exposing himself as a cop or mentioning her?_ _

__Agger dumped his keys on the table and picked up a piece of paper torn from some book. “Gone home. Thanks for the couch. –Julian.” He sighed, a quiet sound that was barely audible._ _

__Martin sank down onto the couch and stared into space._ _

__He heard Daniel move around behind him, before he took the seat next to him._ _

__“Julian’s gone.”_ _

__“Yeah, I heard.”_ _

__Daniel’s brow creased. “What’s up with you? Cops get you down?”_ _

__Martin swallowed. “Something like that.” His voice was shaking._ _

__Daniel reached his hand out and grasped the back of his head. Martin swallowed again, preparing himself for some kind of fight, but Daniel merely pulled him toward him._ _

__Martin bit his lip, fighting off the tightness in his chest. His nan was in the hospital. He had no idea if she was okay – if she was going to be okay. And Daniel knew something wasn’t right. Instead of being an ass, he was hugging him, running his hand over his hair._ _

__Shit, he was so screwed. He closed his eyes and wished his feelings away._ _

__

__Five days. Five days and Martin had no idea how his grandmother was doing. He’d spent most of his time alone in his own apartment. He’d called Vasquez twice with nothing to say of the operation, wanting to find out if there was any news of his nan’s condition. She’d been sympathetic but stern with him. There was no news._ _

__He was meeting Agger at eight. They were running out of supplies and would most likely sell the rest tonight._ _

__Martin showed up at his apartment and they were on their way._ _

__He tensed up as they reached their destination and kept turning his head to see if there was anyone behind them. Barnett or the police, he didn’t know which one he was looking for. He was getting paranoid. He needed to get out._ _

__But nothing happened. They sold the drugs and were back in the car not three minutes later._ _

__Agger frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”_ _

__“Nothing. And if you wanna play the part of concerned fuck buddy or whatever the fuck your part in what we’re doing is, you could start by not making it sound so fucking accusatory every time you ask that.”_ _

__Agger huffed. “What the fuck do you want from me? Do you want me to stroke your hair and call you ‘baby’?” he said, voice high in mock falsetto toward the end, voice laced with nothing short of disdain._ _

__Martin ground his teeth. “Fuck you. You’re a fucking coward.”_ _

__Agger took a sharp turn into the next car park. The wheels squealed as he stopped. The car park was secluded and empty._ _

__Martin unbuckled his seat belt and leapt at Daniel, kissing him hungrily and sucking on his tongue. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to have him or hurt him. His blood was reaching its melting point, his face burning hot and sweat starting to build on his brow._ _

__Agger kissed him back forcefully. His hands were gripping Martin’s hair, pulling him toward him, onto his lap._ _

__Martin bit and Daniel groaned, hands squeezing and rubbing his ass through his jeans._ _

__He wound his hand tighter in his hair and pulled his head back. Martin opened his mouth and moaned._ _

__Agger dove into his neck, using his lips, tongue and teeth to mark him up. “Am I a coward now?” he breathed against his neck._ _

__Martin ground against him. “No. No.” Daniel placed the palm of his hand over the bulge in Martin’s pants. “Ahh, fuck.”_ _

__“No? You want me to be gentle? Take it slow?” He taunted as he grabbed him tighter._ _

__“Mmm. Fuck no.” He maneuvered his head to catch Daniel’s lips again._ _

__The space was too small to be comfortable and as Daniel slid inside him and Martin began to move, his head hit the roof of the car. But all the thoughts that had been throttling him – the lies, the betrayal, his helplessness in not knowing how ill his grandmother really was – were wiped out of his mind._ _

__Reckless rough sex in the front seat of a car in a public – albeit secluded – area? He didn’t even know who he was anymore. Even as a teenager, he’d never done anything this stupid and risky._ _

__

__//_ _

__

__“I’m sorry.” He said it so quietly Martin almost didn’t hear him._ _

__Martin turned around in Daniel’s bed and Daniel looked away. He’d probably never said these words before._ _

__Martin brushed his fingers over his freckled face. “For what?”_ _

__Daniel still wouldn’t look at him. He gnawed on his bottom lip. “I know I can be… a little…” he paused for a long time as if he was looking for the right word. “Harsh… sometimes.” The entire sentence sounded like he was physically struggling to get the words out._ _

__Martin was still touching his face. “It’s alright.”_ _

__Daniel snorted. Self-deprecating. “I must have been about 23 before I realized that most mothers aren’t like mine.”_ _

__Martin wasn’t surprised. Dysfunction often became the norm for people who lived with abuse like Daniel had. Growing up with it and never knowing anything else, that wouldn’t have helped either. It was a wonder he had any sense of self worth at all._ _

__Martin forced Agger to look at him. “I can handle myself.”_ _

__“I know,” he mumbled, looking down._ _

__Martin moved down to catch his eyes again. “If you cross a line I’m not gonna sit there and take it.”_ _

__Agger’s lips twitched into a crooked smile._ _

__Martin pressed his lips to Daniel’s. Daniel’s hands came to rest on his neck as he deepened the kiss._ _

__A few seconds later, Martin broke the kiss._ _

__“The shipment’s coming tomorrow night. We’re meeting at eight in that old warehouse off East 5th Street. Did you work out your end of the deal?”_ _

__Martin hadn’t. He wouldn’t be getting anything anyway. None of them would. He swallowed and shook his head. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”_ _

__He couldn’t slink off into the bathroom right away and a part of him didn’t even want to. He had to do it._ _

__He waited for twenty minutes before he went to the bathroom and dialed Vasquez._ _

__“Kelly.”_ _

__Martin took a deep breath and exhaled heavily. “Eight o’clock tomorrow night. Warehouse on East 5th. Everyone’ll be there.”_ _

__He hung up and paced the floor of the small bathroom. He could go to the hospital soon. His old life was within reach again. But nothing was the same anymore. In less than 24 hours he’d be out. How could he feel so conflicted about that?_ _

__Daniel. When the cops stormed the place tomorrow night he’d get arrested and slapped with 20 years. Julian would still be neck-deep in the debt his piece of shit parents couldn’t care less about. If Rory didn’t get fed up with waiting and killed him, he’d have to work it off with him. It was only a matter of time before he was in prison too. Depending on the seriousness of his crimes, he might even be tried as an adult._ _

__Fuck, he was wrecking Daniel’s life and taking Julian down with him._ _

__

__//_ _

__

__Daniel had his wrists pinned to the bed – the pressure of his fingers just tight enough to bruise – his head buried in his neck, nibbling and sucking. Martin was a mess of emotions; tangled up inside him, leaving his head reeling, and his cock hard._ _

__Daniel paused and raised himself up. His eyes bore into Martin’s and his lips twitched into a small smile. It looked impossibly sincere. A thick sense of discomfort wrapped around Martin’s neck, getting tighter and tighter. Strangling him._ _

__He eased the pressure on his wrists and bent down again to kiss him. It lacked the urgency his earlier kisses had. Martin kissed him harder and grabbed him through his trousers._ _

__They were interrupted by a knock on the door and Daniel got up, breaking eye-contact. Martin allowed himself a small sigh of relief. He rubbed his hands over his face and got up to leave. He couldn’t handle this._ _

__Agger opened the door and Julian stood on the other side, the hood on his sweatshirt up and his head bowed down. He looked up and Martin saw the deep red mark over his eye – the edges turning a dark angry purple._ _

__“Can I stay here tonight?”_ _

__Agger’s knuckles were turning white from the way he clutched the door. He nodded and stalked back into his bedroom._ _

__Martin felt like he was being pulled in two different directions. Julian was just standing there, eyes cast down, almost as if he could make himself as small as Martin could imagine him feeling._ _

__But things were crashing and breaking in Daniel’s room. Thuds and smashes could be heard from the living room._ _

__Martin couldn’t find anything to say to Julian. He pulled him gently inside and closed the door behind him. “I’ll be right back.” Then he rushed into Daniel’s bedroom._ _

__Daniel stood in front of the foot of the bed – in the middle of the pile of ruins from the shelves he’d ripped off the wall – loading a magazine into his gun._ _

__Martin closed the door._ _

__Daniel looked up – mouth drawn together and eyes fiery with uncontrolled rage._ _

__“What are you gonna do? Kill him?”_ _

__“I’ll rip his fucking throat out,” Daniel growled and tried to push past Martin, who stopped him._ _

__“Are you gonna threaten him?”_ _

__“He’s an abusive motherfucking son of a bitch. Don’t stick up for him or I’ll fuck you up.” He made another attempt to get past him._ _

__Martin shoved him back. “I’m not sticking up for him--”_ _

__Daniel shoved him too. Messing with him when he was so fucking angry wasn’t the safest course of action, but Martin had to do something. He couldn’t stand by and watch as everything went to shit the day before it was scheduled to._ _

__“That fucking bastard’s gonna get what’s coming to him.”_ _

__“Are you gonna kill him? Do you want to get life in prison for a worthless piece of shit like him?”_ _

__Daniel took a moment to breathe. His jaw jutted and his face was turning red. He was still furious. “I’m gonna scare him so bad he’ll piss himself.”_ _

__“And what’s he gonna do when he can’t take it out on you?”_ _

__Daniel’s whole body shook as he balled his hands into fists. Martin had never seen anything like it. He was literally shaking with anger. He sat down on the bed and uncoiled his fists. The violent trembles subsided. “Take it out on Julian?”_ _

__Martin nodded._ _

__Daniel growled through clenched teeth. He smacked himself in the forehead._ _

__“Jesus, Daniel,” Martin said, seizing his wrist and keeping him from hitting himself again. “I know it’s gotta suck not being able to knock some sense into him, but there’s nothing you can do about him.”_ _

__Daniel looked up. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”_ _

__“Julian came to you for a reason.”_ _

__The words just hung between them for a moment._ _

__Daniel blew out a puff of air and stood up. He kissed the corner of Martin’s mouth and left the room._ _

__Martin drew in a shaky breath. This was fucking tormenting him. Tomorrow night he’d betray Daniel._ _

__//_ _

__

__Martin tossed his clothes into a bag. He’d no longer have to live in this hole. Not that he’d actually stayed there a lot. He’d spent most nights at Agger’s place._ _

__He dropped down on the bed and sighed, but it didn’t help the tautness in his throat and chest didn’t lessen. In just four hours Daniel would be at the warehouse. In less than five he’d be arrested. Martin pinched the skin on his forehead, but he couldn’t shake the thoughts in his head._ _

__If he told Daniel, he could lose his job. No. It was worse than that. He could face charges; actual jail time._ _

__Fuck._ _

__Vasquez and the surveillance operatives along with half the force probably were gearing up for tonight’s ambush. For the first time in months he wasn’t being watched._ _

__Martin got up. A second later, he sat back down again. He gripped his hair and pulled. Fuck. He couldn’t do this to Daniel. Or to Julian. It was never meant to be in his hands, but once he sent Daniel to jail it would be on him. There was nothing anybody could say or do to convince him otherwise. It was all on him._ _

__He stood up again and left the apartment._ _

__No one was watching him. He needed to talk to Daniel. He rushed over to his place and knocked on the door. What was he going to say? He hadn’t thought of a plan._ _

__Daniel opened the door and walked back inside. “Thought we weren’t meeting until tonight?”_ _

__Martin took a tentative step inside, stress and crushing tension flooding through his veins. “Don’t go tonight.” He shut the door behind him._ _

__Daniel looked up, brow furrowed in question._ _

__Martin swallowed. “You don’t want to be there tonight.”_ _

__Daniel shook his head and his lips twitched into a half-smile. “Don’t worry about me. It’ll be pretty routine. Probably not even an hour.” He reached out and clasped his hand on the back of Martin’s neck._ _

__Martin couldn’t look at him but he forced himself to. “Someth- Something’s going to go down.”_ _

__Their eyes locked and Martin could see Daniel’s expression change as it dawned on him. His brow creased and his eyes constricted into slits. He backed away. He looked away and looked back again, his face contorted as if in pain._ _

__Instinctually he pulled his gun on Martin. “You’re a fucking cop?”_ _

__It was hard to breathe. Martin frowned, his eyes twitching as he sank to his knees and put his hands up, his elbows tucked in at his sides. “Yeah.”_ _

__Daniel grabbed his hair with both hands, his gun still in his hand. His jaw jutted and his face looked like he was being tortured._ _

__Martin’s throat constricted. “I’m sorry.”_ _

__“You’re sorry?” Daniel shouted. “You’re fucking sorry?” He grabbed the slide and Martin heard the bullet hit the chamber._ _

__Martin’s breath was coming out ragged. Daniel was scaring him. On purpose. He didn’t need to pop a bullet in the chamber. Squeezing the trigger took care of that._ _

__“You lied to me for months and all this time--” his voice cracked and he looked away again, eyes glistening. “I can’t believe I actually fucking trusted you.”_ _

__He swiveled his head back, eyes hard and unforgiving as he stalked toward him and put the gun against his head._ _

__Martin squeezed his eyes shut. “No. Don’t shoot.” His own voice broke. He raised his arms higher. “Daniel, don’t shoot. You could just split. Take the 5 grand we didn’t give to Garrity yet.”_ _

__Daniel puffed out his cheeks and let out a long, heavy breath. He angled his Sig Sauer better._ _

__Martin’s chest heaved. He was breathing too hard and too fast. His eyes were nailed shut. He didn’t dare open his mouth again._ _

__His heart hammered against his ribcage and he waited. But nothing happened. He still felt the cold steel against his temple. He cracked open one eye. Daniel was looking away, blinking rapidly._ _

__Martin drew in a shaky breath._ _

__Daniel turned his head back toward him. His hand shook and he grunted, trying to steady it. He turned his head and lowered his weapon._ _

__Martin stood up slowly._ _

__“Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind.”_ _

__

__//_ _

__

__He packed up the rest of his clothes and headed straight for the hospital. His grandmother lied in her hospital bed resting._ _

__He took her hand and blinked away tears. His life was falling apart and he had no one to blame but himself. When Daniel failed to show up at the warehouse tonight, he’d be the first person under suspicion. For one fucking job everything he cared about: his grandmother, his job, Daniel… he was going to lose everything._ _

__“Oh, God, nan. I fucked up so bad,” he whispered, resting his head on the hand holding hers._ _

__A hand caressed his hair._ _

__He sat up._ _

__She gave him a weak smile. “Oh, love,” she said, voice weak and groggy. “I haven’t seen you this sad since you were 12 and the neighbor’s dog died.”_ _

__Martin sucked in his bottom lip and struggled to break the tightness of his throat. He put his hand over his mouth. “I’m gonna lose my job.”_ _

__She continued caressing his hair. “What happened?”_ _

__“Remember Daniel—Agger?” She nodded. He breathed out hard. “I let him go.” He gauged the expression on her face but saw no shock or disappointment._ _

__She had a sad smile on her face – one of sympathy and understanding. He drew in a breath that almost turned into a sob._ _

__“He’s not a bad person. He’s just had a hard life.” He cringed and something raw and ugly twisted inside him. He ground his teeth together and let the anger he felt toward himself take him over. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”_ _

__She stroked his cheek, wiping away the tears. “I know who you are.”_ _

__

__//_ _

__

__Daniel didn’t show up that night. The rest of the group was arrested, caught in the act. Martin wouldn’t have to testify or give his statement._ _

__As Martin suspected, he was the first person suspected of tipping Agger off. He was temporarily suspended from his job and there was to be an inquiry. He’d be made to go before the disciplinary board. His handler and surveillance operatives would have to go before the board as well._ _

__The turn of the month came and he emptied his account to make payments on the house and other necessities. He split the rest up for food and utilities. It wouldn’t last long._ _

__He spent all the time he could at the hospital._ _

__

__//_ _

__

__“Officer Kelly. What was your relationship with Agger?” The head of the board was a serious man in his early fifties._ _

__“We worked big deals together.”_ _

__He hmmed. “Was that all?”_ _

__“We slept together. My control officer, Sergeant Vasquez--”_ _

__“Did you in any way indicate to Agger that you were a police officer?”_ _

__Martin concentrated on breathing. He had to lie. Not only could he lose his job but he could face charges and jail time for aiding and abetting. In just a few months his life had been turned completely upside down. “No.”_ _

__“Did you warn him off about the meeting that took place on the evening of June 20th?”_ _

__“No.”_ _

__“Did you mention the potential of a police raid?”_ _

__“No.”_ _

__The questions continued for half an hour. Then Martin was asked to leave while they questioned Vasquez, Michael and Noah._ _

__Martin went outside. God, he was actually facing jail time. He’d royally fucked up. He still didn’t regret letting him go. How ironic would it be if he went to jail for keeping Daniel out of it? Would he regret it then?_ _

__He dragged his feet back inside the building. He was almost at the conference room when he heard Michael’s voice._ _

__“What the hell was that statement? You know he did it, Vasquez.”_ _

__“No, in fact, Michael, I don’t.”_ _

__Michael puffed. “Oh, please, he was in over his head. Agger told him about the meeting, why else would he suddenly decide not to show up?”_ _

__“All I _know_ is Agger didn’t show. I have no evidence that suggests Kelly told him anything.”_ _

__Martin walked away. He shouldn’t be hearing this. Vasquez’s statement might’ve helped him. He was pretty sure he could count on that Michael’s didn’t. But why would Vasquez not be suspicious of him? She was a great cop; there was no way she didn’t connect the dots._ _

__He sat down in the chair just outside and buried his face in his hands. A moment passed and someone sat down next to him. A strong hand grasped his shoulder and gave him a firm, reassuring shake._ _

__“How are you holding up?” Vasquez’s voice._ _

__He straightened up and sighed “Not too good, to be honest.”_ _

__She smiled at him. “You’re a good cop, Kelly. You’re just not cut out for undercover work.”_ _

__He exhaled in a laugh-like snort. “That’s an understatement.”_ _

__“They’re ready for you now. Good luck.”_ _

__He stood up. “Thank you.”_ _

__He was wound tight as he walked back into the conference room. He’d never survive jail. Convicts were notoriously cruel to cops in prison._ _

__He began to sweat as he took his seat. Jesus Christ. Everything was so formal and oppressing. He felt as if he was standing before the jury that would convict him and if the board decided the charge him, he soon would be._ _

__“Mr. Kelly. It’s this board’s finding that you did not uphold the law as best you could under the circumstances.”_ _

__He felt his jaw slack. Fuck._ _

__“Your contract with the Melwood City Police Department is hereby terminated. Hand in your firearm and your badge to your precinct’s Captain by the end of the day.”_ _

__He was at a loss for words._ _

__“The incident will go on your permanent record, effectively ending your career in law enforcement. However, the Melwood City Police Department will not prosecute the matter.”_ _

__He’d lost his job. He’d never get another job in law enforcement again. And then there was the matter of his grandmother’s hospital bills. He’d have to sell the house. How was he going to tell her that they had no place to live?_ _

__

__//_ _

__

__He never got the chance to tell her. She died a week later. Another heart attack. One second she was there, lying in the hospital bed, sleeping. The next the machines went crazy and he was thrown out of the room. She was gone._ _

__He looked all over the city for work. Nobody was hiring. Businesses were shutting down all over the city and his termination from the police department raised questions he had a hard time answering._ _

__More bills came. He had no money to pay them._ _

__A month passed. And with it came more bills. He got a letter as well, warning him of defaulting on his loans or the bank would take the house._ _

__Martin couldn’t handle it anymore. He went out for a drink, the twenty dollars in his pocket wouldn’t go very far for anything anyway._ _

__It was probably the only bar in this part of town where the patrons were louder than the music. It suited Martin's mood just fine. He made a beeline for the bar table and stood there, instead of taking a seat._ _

__The bartender motioned that he was next._ _

__“Bourbon.” He suddenly had a craving for the charred, sweet taste, but he never paid attention to what kind Agger always got for him._ _

__The bartender smiled tiredly. “Which brand?”_ _

__“Jim Beam,” said a voice from behind him. _Agger's_ voice. “And make it two.”_ _

__Martin didn't turn around - a small part of him convinced he'd gone a little crazy in the emotional whirlwind of the last two months - but rather waited until Agger came next to him._ _

__When he could smell him - his senses flooded with a wistful sense of nostalgia - Martin turned his head. “Thought you skipped town.”_ _

__The bartender put two glasses in front of them._ _

__“I did. I'm just back for a couple of hours.”_ _

__“To get Julian.” It wasn’t a question. There was only one person Daniel would risk coming back to the city for._ _

__He nodded. “You gonna call the police on me?”_ _

__Martin took a sip of his bourbon. “Why would I?” It came out sour; his resentment over the disciplinary board’s hearing seeping into his words._ _

__“Heard you got fired.”_ _

__Martin shot him a cautious look. “Where would you hear a thing like that?”_ _

__Daniel chuckled. “I do know people who read the paper you know. You were never mentioned by name, but it was easy to figure out... Julian told me.”_ _

__“Yep. They fired me.”_ _

__Daniel frowned. “You really risked everything by letting me go?”_ _

__Martin leveled him with a fierce look. “Risked everything? I lost everything. I have no job, no family and as of today, no place to live.” He raised his glass. “Cheers.” Then he downed the rest of his drink, wincing as it burned down his throat._ _

__“Why’d you do it?”_ _

__Martin’s eyes locked on his. “If you don’t know that then what are you doing here?”_ _

__Daniel took a hesitant step closer and then closer and closer and Martin didn't move._ _

__“Come with Julian and me to Denmark.” He brought one hand up and rested it the side of Martin's neck._ _

__“And what? Leave a trail of crime across Western Europe?”_ _

__Daniel frowned. “I’ve got something legit lined up.”_ _

__Martin narrowed his eyes. “I'm betting you’re on the no-flight list. How are you going to get there?”_ _

__“There’s this Slovak in New York—”_ _

__“No. You know what? The less I know, the better.”_ _

__Daniel inched closer, their faces barely an inch apart. “Is that a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’?” Then his mouth was on Martin’s, taking his breath away and his last bit of resistance with it._ _

__When he pulled back, Martin nodded. “Okay.”_ _

__“Okay?” He kissed him again. After a moment too long, he broke the kiss and tossed some money on the table to cover their drinks._ _

__A thought occurred to Martin. “How did you know where I was?”_ _

__“I followed you.”_ _

__Martin scoffed, but couldn’t say he was surprised. “Stalker.”_ _

__“Honest stalker. Now come on. Let’s go get Julian. He’s probably packed by now.”_ _

__“Holy shit. Am I really gonna do this?”_ _

__Daniel’s eyes softened. “You tell me.”_ _

__Martin took a deep breath. There was nothing left for him here. He nodded. “I’m really gonna do this.”_ _

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully I've grown as a writer since I wrote this (at least a little), but it's still one of the ones I was most proud of at the time and I like having that memory of it, so thought I'd throw it out here too. Though I realize plenty of people here were probably also on LJ at the time.


End file.
